Snake eyes
by TopCatOG
Summary: Marden of Metinna a witcher from the school of the viper, left the path five years ago but as fate would have it the path wasn't done with him.
1. Chapter 1

**Authors notes. i have read some really good fan fiction on this site that has inspired me to give it a go.**

 **i am by no means an expert writer so feedback is appreciated. i am a huge fan of the witcher universe and hope you enjoy the story.**

 **so my first upload failed spectacularly -_- lets try again.**

Chapter 1: That went well.

Most witchers never leave the path some take breaks trying to spend their time doing other hobbies from tavern owing to wine brewing. These are few and far between though and most witchers will meet their fate on the path as the saying goes no witchers ever died in his own bed.

Marden hadn't been on the path in five years, surprisingly the reason for leaving the path was not because of the occupational hazard of being killed by a monster but being killed by the people they were supposed to protect from the monsters. Having had more than few instances than he would like where the village had turned on him after they were rid of their affliction naturally.

The straw that finally broke the camels back however was an instance in the swamps of Velen where marden took a contract on a foglet or more accurately foglets that where taking children in the night, after the battle was over and marden dragged the three foglet heads out of the swamp half covered in the dirty mass of the swamp himself and very tired instead of being met by a thankful village (even a witcher can dream) he was met by the members of the witch hunters.

The witch hunters doubled the pay that they had paid the witcher in an effort to try and capture and kill the witcher it was an offer most starving peasants wouldn't have turned down.

Not being on the path however didn't limit marden from making money. Being a witcher he was more than capable at making a living with his hands more precisely the bare knuckle tournaments that where held around the region and the underground fighting circuit that was run by now the big two of Novigrad that being cleaver and the king of beggars.

This is where we find our witcher under the bath house in Novigrad now run by happen, After the passing of the count happen managed to sort out the books and keep the bath house operational whilst making a deal with the last two mob bosses of the city to run a few of their fight nights from there.

"Taking the last bets of the night ladies and gentlemen, last fight last bets."

The book makers cries echoed off the stone walls under the bath house where the cries of the punters sounded more like thunder as their voices roared through the tunnels of the free city. The stench of smoke, blood, sweat and ale of all variety's hung in the air like an ominous cloud on a sunny day thick and heavy, while the punters bade for blood.

"In the left corner, we have Marden of Metinna, and in the right corner we have Dodas from Oxenfurt."

Marden was sat leaning himself up against the wall with a bottle of dwarven spirit in his hand, the wraps on his hands that had previously been white and clean at the beginning of the night where now black with the crimson stains of blood, mardens face was bloody and bruised as the gentle stream of blood ran from over his right eyebrow down the side of his face and onto the cold stone floor.

"Damn skelligan pirates."

Marden spat the remaining blood in his mouth on to the floor and swallowed down a few gulps of the spirit to wash the copper taste of blood away.

"Master witcher, the round is about to start rise or you shall be disqualified".

"Come on you mutant freak ill smash you into the ground".

The slender challenger form oxenfurt voice broke as he goaded the arguably better fighter, even if slightly bruised.

As the witcher rose to turn towards the centre of the make shift ring that was formed by benches being laid on their side, stepping over the bench and into the light the witchers figure came to bare, standing at six foot with broad shoulders and solid frame similar to the dock workers of Novigrad, his torso was bare covered in scars as evidence of a life on the path, the most prominent scars were four parallel lines running diagonally from his left shoulder to his right hip, his hair was jet black and closely cut to his head.

As the round started the two challengers circled each other as the crowd growing anticipation filled the room like a swell on the tide.

Surprisingly to the crowd it was the oxenfurt challenger that threw the first punch straight to the witchers jaw, although one eye was shutting because of the blood flow from his eyebrow was now trickling into his eye.

Marden managed to slip to the left whilst firing back his own shot a right hand to the face, the distinct sound of bone breaking cracked like the sound of whip as the nose of the challenger was flooding out with blood. There was no time to react though as a left hook to the body came crashing into his ribs and was finished off by a right uppercut that lifted the challenger of the floor.

Gasps from the crowd turned into dead silence as the crowd tried to compartmentalise what they had seen, finally the challenger started to stir and the silence was broken by the cheer of mob boss cleaver.

"Bloody good show that witcher come see me after you've cleaned yourself up we have some business to discuss, right the rest of you clear out I don't care where you go but you cannot stay here".

Changing out of his blood stained Skellige breaches into his boots and black hunting pants before wiping the remainder of blood of his torso. Marden then donned his white under shirt, black gambeson and a chain mail jacket complete with another white cotton shirt and a dark green over tunic with a brown sleeveless leather vest. His entangled snake medallion was draped over his head and hung their proudly.

However his symbolic two swords where nowhere to be seen instead he was sporting a boot knife on his right foot, a buck knife on his left shoulder and a tanto dagger on his right shoulder, aside from these he had the two large knifes that his brother Letho of Gulet had across his chest only marden preferred to carry his with one on his right hip and the other across the front of his left hip.

As the crowd slowly started to disperse marden turned to the book maker and made a B-line straight for him before he could make it out of the underground.

"That went well, now five fights for 500 crowns an opponent that's 2,500 crowns".

"Yes, well master witcher you see"

"Don't you ploughing dare think of short changing me after the night I've had."

The silence of the book maker was more than any word could say as his shaking hands presented a full coin pouch that was placed into the witchers satchel that he carried that was strapped across his body.

The cold night air of the city of Novigrad cooled the burning sweat of the witchers forehead as he made his way through the narrow dimly lit streets to the 'office' of one of the deadliest dwarfs in the city.

As marden stepped through the door of the make shift office clever was sat at his desk with only a few candles to light the room, sporting his trademark pelt jacket and a metal mace was propped up against the desk.

Counting out the coins that he made from the events of the night, cleavers focus didn't break from counting, the dim lights of the candles bounced of the golden amber coins casting shadows on every surface.

"Ah witcher."

The gruff dwarf spoke, after finishing the stack of coins that he had counted he leaned back and poured himself a drink.

"The names marden, what do you want cleaver I've had a long night."

The witchers response was equally as gruff and stoic.

"Well touch a nerve did I ha ha, very well marden I have a contract for you."

"I'm not interested."

"Don't be too hasty witcher it's not what you think, I'm not having you hunt down some drowners near the cove me and my boys can handle them."

Marden didn't know if it was blind curiosity that drove him to ask why or if the brawls of the night had knocked the sense right out of him he left the path for a reason after all, nevertheless the words left his mouth all the same.

As he sat forward massaging the muscle and knuckles in his hands he left out an exasperated tone.

"Fine what is it."

"A member of the scoia'tael came to me today turn out some spies have gone missing."

"That's not much to go on."

"I wasn't finished these spies where disguised as a circus troupe one female elf, two male elves and four skelligan security guards."

"Who took them and why would they take the skelligans."

"As it happens the witch hunters and because they saw them travelling the road haven't you noticed the hanging burned corpses and how most of the bits are empty the none humans are leaving and any human seen aiding non humans is judge with them."

"What makes you so safe cleaver."

"Money talks marden, so will you take the contract."

"What makes you so invested in this matter."

"Call it my humanitarian side."

Marden scoffed at the idea of this dwarf having any concern about anything other than money, but he knew that's all the answer he would get.

"Hmm how much are we talking tracking down a missing person is hard enough that's without the added danger of witch hunters, having to free the kidnapped this isn't going to be cheap, plus I don't even know what they did to get captured."

"These particular set of spies give me certain information about the Redanian army and I may or may not help the fight."

Marden ears perked up when he herd the fight, a rumour had been circulating that the so called rebel group where taking action against the witch hunters and order of the flaming rose. And if it's one thing marden loved more than fighting it was watching them slimy headed witch hunters who only followed the faith when it suited them get their comeuppance.

"Ten thousand crowns."

"ha ha you've got some fucking balls witcher, usually you'd be crawling out of here" cleaver was tapping his mace, made out of pure steel with lines and ridges forming his grip, the shaft of the mace was covered in ancient dwarf runes and the head of the solid ball of steel that had slight indentations around it which caught mardens eye.

"but under the circumstances and the value of this group we have a deal. Now let's have a drink I'd say you've earned it after the arse kicking you've handed out tonight."

As the hours ticked on by it was in the late evening when marden and cleaver parted ways.

"Tomorrow witcher, the contact will meet you past the forest just at the clearing near the lighthouse outside the city walls, he will be dressed as a hunter approach him and ask about the missing white stag."

"hmm inventive, what about my pay."

A loud bellow of a laugh came from the dwarf as he sat beside his stack of gold coins that had all been counted and piled up.

"Always with the eye on the prize, five tomorrow and the rest when you're back here, just find and release the troupe into the hands of the scoia'tael at the drop off the same place where you met the hunter, he will be there on your return understood?"

"How will you know when they're free."

"Let's just say I have my ways, the contact will have your money."

And with that the meeting was at a close, marden rose and turned towards the door descending down the tunnel past the hench dwarfs who were gambling and drinking.

Walking through the empty cold streets to his pre-rented room at the passiflora in the secret room, marden felt the soft beat of the rain over his tunic hood.

"There he his that's the thief."

The voice came from the shadows of one of the side alleys that branched of the main streets, marden was pre occupied with the thought of what could lay in store for him with the contract he had just accepted, weighing up all the possibilities that could go wrong in the end he reconciled that after the five years he spent off the path that there would never be a right time to re-join the path and he had to accept the fact that whatever fate had in store for him he would face it like a witcher.

"Stop thief by order of the hierarch."

The men appeared form the shadows, the torches revealed their numbers four witch hunter all armed were approaching the witcher in the company of the bookmaker.

"Now gentlemen surely we can discuss this like civil people."

"Quiet freak." one of the guards spat as he drew his sword.

It was with this act of aggression that marden knew he wasn't going to be arrested or were they going to take the money that the bookmaker thought he was owed.

Marden took a step back placing his right leg behind his left in a ready stance, with his hands by his side and his right hand was twitching with the anticipation.

"Listen I didn't steal a thing I won the coin fair and square."

"We don't care freak we know your type, they lie and use tricks now get on your knees."

The leader of the group of witch hunters drew his sword and step forward placing the tip of the sword on the witchers chest.

Marden closed his eyes took a deep breath and imagining the set of moves that would get him past the hunters, it felt as if time had slowed down but only seconds passed.

The rain had intensified the heavy pounding was replaced by streams and streams of a shower getting whipped up by the wind.

"On your knees!"

The witchers eyes snapped open, in one fluid motion marden brought his left arm across his chest breaking the contact the steal sword had on his tunic simultaneously grabbing the knife from his right hip and driving the blade through witch hunter's eye and out the back of his skull jamming the blade there.

"Shit." There was a cry from the second witch hunter who was slow on the draw of his sword.

Marden turned towards the second witch hunter, he saw the panic set in as he hurried to draw his sword, marden pushed down the hunter's right hand as he drew his second knife from his left hip and drove it through the witch hunters throat, slamming to the ground clutching his throat as he dropped to his knees choking on his own blood.

Spinning to face the third hunter who was bringing his sword down overhead, marden grabbed him by the wrist and plunged his knife through the underside of his chin into his brain, feeling the warm flow of blood running down his hand and the front of the witch hunters tanned leather coat.

Marden let the hunter drop with his knife still stuck in his skull as he faced the final guard his amber eyes burning with fury and snarling in an animalistic rage, in sheer terror the guard swung his sword at the unarmed witcher.

Marden stepped to his right catching the witch hunters arm by the wrist under his own arm whilst interlocked his arms forming a figure four breaking the witch hunters arm at the elbow taking his sword and running him the chest.

As he stood there in the barely lit tunnel surrounded by the carnage he had just brought down he almost completely forgot about the one who instigated the attack, the book maker was crouched down hiding away from the witcher.

"That went well, get here you whoreson."

Gripping the bookmaker by the collar and dragging him up to eye level the witcher took the tanto from right shoulder and drove it through the bookmaker's hand pinning him to the wall whilst covering his mouth to muffle the scream.

Collecting his knifes and wiping the blood of the dead witch hunters off his blades marden checked their bodies for extra coin before going over to his piñata. Where he stood silently collecting his thoughts as the bookmaker had stopped squirming.

Walking over he drove three body hooks into the side of his new friend, before taking a deep breath and collecting his thoughts again as the rage drained out of his face.

"Pp-pp please master witcher I." the book maker face was white with terror as his sentence was cut short.

"Have you herd of the knife game mumble-peg." the witchers voice was now essentially a deep growl.

The piñata shook his head not saying anything still in shock at how he hadn't managed to pull the dagger from his hand and nearly passing out with shock.

"Never mind, it was just one of the many knifes games that where played when I was a lad".

Marden reached down to his boot dagger, flipping the blade over in his hand holding it blade first, marden threw the dagger it expertly landed inches away from his face, that was the last thing the book maker saw before passing out.

"hm just as I thought."

Collecting his boot dagger and cleaning the tanto of blood marden gathered the remainder of the book makers coin and set off towards the passiflora.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Authors notes:**_

 _ **My old enemy Grammar, I have tried polishing this chapter up so thank you for PineappleApproves and Gerd-Witcher for that. And to mikitta the school of the viper of course**_ _ **.**_

Chapter 2: Nostalgia

The passiflora, what can be said about this fine establishment that hasn't already been said. Marden had spent a week in this fine establishment in the private room hidden from the rest of the hustle of the house.

Marden however was not alone and had spent the entirety of his stay with the elf courtesan Amrynn, the blonde slender elf caught his eye seven years ago when he was still on the path.

Her light blue eyes and pointing ears that she proudly showed off immediately caught his attention her dress was a complementing colour of red and white hugging the tight shapes of her body but managing to keep some air of mystery, the smell of lavender clung to her skin and the air around her.

Out of all the women at passiflora and there was a fair share of attractive working girls with many exceptional talents he preferred her the most, not only was she a so-called freak like him they really had a deep friendship and marden was sure to always pay her a visit when he got the chance.

"What happened to you Marden you look like shit" the slender elf enquired as he stumbled through the door dripping wet from the rain and covered in blood that was not entirely his own.

"Rough night."

"And that's why your face looks like a tenderised steak, actually I've seen better looking steaks."

Marden shot her a look under his eyes before a slight grin appeared on his face, as he started to undress letting his satchel hit the floor and placing his knifes on the side table.

"Well at least you made good coin, is that your blood?"

"I ran into trouble on the way back."

"Well that's just great, it's bad enough having guards and witch hunters in here without them making an investigation search."

"Relax nobody saw me come back here, beside what would you prefer me kneeling down having my head chopped off in a back alley."

The blonde elf crossed her arms and looked down she knew how difficult life had gotten in the city no matter what feelings of relative safety that came from within the passiflora walls, after all men where a little less violent with ale and enough attractive women around or men the passiflora didn't judge.

"I've drawn you a bath get yourself cleaned off, there is some vodka and food on the side, I'll have your clothes washed and pressed for you and I will be back up when it's done, get to bed."

Marden left his clothes and armour with Amrynn who silently snuck out of the room taking the clothes to the wash cellar.

Climbing into the bath and breathing in the hot steam of the lavender scented water marden felt his body let go of the stress of the day.

Drying himself off and climbing into his massive feather down bed marden turned to his side where he could see his swords and armour, he remembered the time he spent at the school of the viper and how everything seemed simpler when he was younger.

Amrynn's bath had certainly done the trick his eyes became heavy as if the sandman himself was closing them, drifting to sleep Marden made a final glance of the room and to his armour as the feeling nostalgia swept him away to sleep.

"one, two, three, three, two, one. Again"

Ivar Evil-Eye master witcher of the viper school was overseeing the morning practise of the five young witcher initiates.

This morning practice was with the silver sword practising the form pattern of Viroledan Naev'de Feaine Glaeddyv style or in the common tongue the Nine Sun Sword style.

With the forms complex slashing movements the witchers practised and practised in a slow rhythmic flow. The slowing of the movements trained the young witchers to feel their body move within the style whilst learning how to keep track of their sword which in the heat of battle was an invaluable tool.

The great sun of Nilfgaard was beating down on the practice courtyard that lay in the shadow of the great keep, the fresh early morning air breezed through the trees of the mountainside and up through the grounds of the fort.

Placing his head in his hand Ivar sighed.

"I suppose I should be thankful that its only dull silver swords you're practising with, the five of you would be lucky to slice through a piece of straw at this rate." the sombre voice of the master travelled through the small group.

The young witchers had already been practising since the early hours and it was only the first three steps of the form.

Placing down his mug of herb tea Ivar rose from his bench that he had been watching the young witcher practise from and brought over his own practise sword.

"Ok, let's try this again" Ivar began his demonstration and instructed the young witchers as he did so.

"Left leg forward ready stance, advance and slash on the one, pivot on your lead foot and spin and slash on the two and retreat on third, then retreat again on the third, this time on the second step pivot and spin on your rear foot perform a slash whilst you retreat and perform another slash on the final first step."

"I thought this was the group style" one of the initiates muttered under his breath.

The unmistakable feeling of bare hand met the back of his head,

"What's the use in teaching you how to fight several opponent's if you can't even move forward on the one right in front of you."

The morning sun had barely rose but it was enough to pull marden from his dream as he began to stir next to his companion.

"so, this is your last day in the city?" purred the slender elf as she traced the lines of the scars running across his torso.

"That's right, just need to pick up a few things then I'll be on my way"

"What about pip?"

"Pip is always ready"

Pip was mardens black and white mare from his home city of Metinna, he won the then foal in a game of cards after winning everything from a more than ambitious farmer.

Stubborn, gormless, fast and loyal the perfect horse for marden. No matter how stubborn she could be at times marden could never stay mad at her for long and would eventually give In and give her a few apples once she flashed her sympathetic eyes.

Although marden would never admit it he needed pip and in a strange way pip needed him she was less than accommodating for other people, this served them well on the path but once or twice marden had to pay for new stable fencing.

Marden owed his life to pip a contract in the north of Velen went south once when marden was hunting a pack of arachnomorphs deep in the hilly forest, whilst facing off against the last three of the pack mardens silver sword was knocked clean from his hand and into the nearby river. Now as good as marden is with his knifes even he had a difficult time facing them.

After managing to dispatch the two smaller ones thanks to his throwing knifes and back up knifes the larger one of the pack had managed to get up and around him and pounced.

Before the arachnomorph could sink its fangs into the witcher pip charged full forced into the side of giant spider and manged to keep it on its back, whilst trampling it pip was neighing as loudly as possible to urge her human to stand.

Managing to struggle to his feet and although it wasn't subtle he managed to pull his steel sword from the strap on the side of pip and together they killed the monster.

From that day Marden was more patient when he caught her chasing rabbits or making friends with every dog in the village they passed.

After putting on all his regular gear marden began fixing up his sleeveless body armour that was tied together across the side with belt straps, it was strong enough to protecthim stabbing slashing of swords and monster but light enough that it didn't impede his movements.

The body armour together with the chain mail and gambeson completed his top half of protection as for the bottom half marden didn't wear leg guards as both legs had four throwing knifes attached to them, he did however wear guards on his boots just in case.

Amrynn was laid on the bed propped up on one elbow her hair tracing the contours of her torso as she watched her witcher companion preparing his equipment. She said nothing as she just laid there watching him strap the rest of knifes to their correct places on his body.

Glancing over to the sword stand she spotted his steel Dan Dao sabre, sporting a basic black sheath wrap with a steel design at its bottom and a steel top where the sheath joined the guard, the hand grip was a black wrap with a brushed chrome hand guard and pommel.

Marden preferred the Dao because with its slight bend in the hand grip it allowed for more attack options during combat its length was shorter than the traditional steel straight sword making it more effect for his style of fighting.

In addition to these attributes the hand and a half feature made it easier for him to use one of his larger knifes in his offhand making him twice as deadly.

Amrynn also saw his silver sword sporting the same plain black sheath cover with a silver guard a not an uncommon feature on a silver swords, this one however had a black twisted leather wrap handle that lead into a hissing viper pommel. elegant, beautiful, deadly.

Her focus on the swords details was broken when the witcher turned to face her.

"I don't know when I'll be back in Novigrad, I've left all the coin owed on the table and split what I got changed over at the bank so you have some extra. Take care of yourself."

"You too."

Although the parting word weren't full of love and cries of sorrow it was enough, they both knew that attachment was dangerous in their professions.

Marden worked his way over to pip in the stables, he strapped his steel and silver sword to the side of his mount and covered them with the bed roll saddle bags and covers it was always a dangerous road and he didn't need any help attracting attention beside men kill for silver.

Pulling up his hood he led pip out of the stables and through the streets, as they reached the Portside gate marden mounted pip and they set off to the meeting point.

As marden reached the edge of the forest he came upon the clearing the thick forest woods gave way to freshly cut grass that laid before the lighthouse, a small camp could be seen a pitched tent with a small fire a human and hunting dog.

The early morning brought with it its distinctive chill just before the sun reached its peak, the distinct smell of salt water could be tasted in the air as the waves crashed against the rocky coast.

Dismounting pip marden approached the hunter who was warming his hands by the fire as his trusty companion chewed contently on a bone.

"Greetings, a little early to be hunting don't you think?"

The hunter lifted his head looking towards the witcher whilst also admiring pip,

"Greetings, that depends on the game you're hunting."

"Good point so what is the game on the menu."

"Hare, for travel ration and hare jerky is beautiful on the road."

"As much as anything can be on the road, is that a red oak bow?"

"Good eye, red oak bows are the best for hunting there draw backs strength is unmatched."

"Especially for hunting deer."

"Aye, not much use as a hunter if you if you can't hit a deer."

"Indeed, it's a shame about the missing white stag."

The pleasure of the conversation was halted as the demeanour of the hunter had changed into something far more serious.

"Master cleaver said you would come I didn't expect you so early though."

The hunter stood collecting his bow and quiver, turning over the barrel stool that he was sat on and collecting coin pouch.

Marden took an apple from his side pouch and fed it pip while he gave her a light pat on her neck.

"Master witcher here is the coin that master cleaver promised you."

"It's Marden, thank you now the rest of the information where was the group travelling when they were taken and spare no detail."

"Right well, the troupe travelled from there two-night show in oxenfurt to the vegelbud residence for a private party that the family threw, they then travelled back across to Novigrad where they hired the skelligan merchants for their security. They had some trouble for both the nights on the show nothing surprising in Novigrad, it turns out the skelligans were docked in Novigrad for two weeks so they hired them to take them to crows perch."

"I never knew that the baron was fond of that type of entertainment."

"He has to do something to keep his men and village happy, our sources say that they last made camp north of the ursten village and where taken on the way to the inn at the crossroads, where they were to do a show before heading on to crow's perch."

With the information all gathered marden set off to the village, coming over the brow of the hill he could see the remains of camp. Staying on pip he looked down at the remains of the camp.

There was a lot of activity for such a little camp site, the ground was trampled with horse tracks, wagon tracks and foot prints.

The evidence suggested that the wagon had been placed in a semicircle with the sides of the wagons facing the forest. A dark circled ditch indicated that a campfire had been lit and it was surrounded by the distinctive shapes of sleeping mats.

Marden followed the tracks that led towards the main road where he saw the tracks of the horses and the wagon covering the ground, just as the contract had said they had managed to make it through the village it was when they reached the land crossing that they ran into trouble.

"Seems our little troupe created quite the stir." Marden mused to pip as she was looking off to right clearly not interested at what was before her.

Two witch hunters laid faced down in the sand, evidence of sword fights littered the ground, three more had arrows through the necks more evidence that the elf's mounted an attack from there wagons before they were overcome.

The sandy muddy terrain was hard enough to travel by horse let alone wagon, the constant rain over Velen and Novigrad complete with the often-rising tide made it difficult to cross especially at speed, a perfect place for trap.

Approximately fifteen witch hunters launched the trap creating a pincer move blocking them in from the sides, with the conditions the possibility of the wagons gaining traction to escape was impossible they were sitting ducks.

Scanning the ground and looking for fresh clues marden spotted something leading up to a ridge where the dry land started again.

"They had a prison wagon laid in wait on the dry ground, but they didn't take them back to Novigrad they took them further down the coast."

Marden was talking to himself a habit he did often as thinking out loud helped his concentration, pausing he began to think of what could possibly lay in that direction.

It was rumoured that to the north of Novigrad on crane cape the witch hunters and the order of the flaming rose had built a prison/work camp for any non-humans unlucky enough to be arrested or captured for any reason would be taken there along with anyone hiding or helping them.

In reality, the order of the flaming rose was running their new drug operation from the island and the witch hunters ran the prison anyone that got sent there human or not was tortured or killed or worked to death or all three, if the witch hunters where going anywhere it was there.

"Lornruk, of course they docked their ship on that island and crossed over that way they wouldn't get spotted."

Marden gave pip a firm kick in the sides and set off at full gallop towards the direction of the tracks.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Authors note: I fully apologise for butchering my skelligan/Scottish writing.**_

Chapter 3: A Blast from the past.

Following the wagon tracks that laid out before him like a trail of breadcrumbs marden reached the witch hunters camp.

A thin blanket of darkness started to descend on the continent, the smell of roasting meat travelled on the wind along with the smell of black powder. Approaching closer to the camp the faint sound of laughter could be herd.

Dismounting pip a safe distant away before giving her a well-earned apple, Marden considered taking his Dao but decided against it as his plan didn't involve a full-scale fight but to be in an out like a thief in the night, lifting his hood he set off to free the prisoners.

The night breeze swirled the camp lifting the flames and dragging them into the night, the witch hunters had all the non-humans locked in the wagons and the skelligans where tied up to a nearby tree.

Scanning the campsite from the tree line marden counted the captives.

"There's the female elf and her two male companions also elf, so far so go... a dwarf? well that explains the black powder smell" moving closer to the outline of the camp marden spotted the four skelligan merchants turned security guard tied to a tree.

The group of witch hunters had been brought down to seven as the rest of the hunters weren't to be seen.

"Make sure you get some of that meat while its hot boys, feed the prisoners the scraps."

As one could imagine the skelligans didn't take kindly to being tied up and were constantly trying to break free of their bonds.

"Let mi out o this thing and ill bash ye head in" the thick skelligan accent taunted.

"Like you did at the ambush ha" the witch hunter snapped back erupting the camp into laughter silencing any form of reply.

As the night sky thickened the effects of the ale took their course Marden approached silently from the woods.

Only one guard was on watch if you can call it that he was falling asleep propped up against one of the wagons, catching the eyes of one of the skelligan prisoners marden motioned to his mouth for them to be silent as he drew nearer.

One by one the witcher untied the huge skelligan men.

"Grab yourself a sword and make ready as soon as that lock is open we are slipping out of here" marden voice was barely a whisper.

Sadistic grins all formed on the faces of the now free and angry skelligans, the elves had noticed the witcher and were beginning to ready themselves, the dwarf made no such movements.

Making his way to the sleeping guard Marden spotted the keys hanging from his belt, before the guard could react marden wrapped one arm around his neck and the other over his mouth strangling him into unconsciousness.

"How do ye like that ye piece o shit!"

Turns out the skelligans didn't believe in the quiet approach, looking over his shoulder one of the skelligan was making good on his promise and trying to bash in the witch hunter's skull, the rest of skelligans however were not so graceful as stools, bottles and anything close to hands was being used in what looked like a tavern brawl.

Marden face had a look of pure exasperation as he pulled his hood down and shook his head.

"Oh great, no fantastic don't listen to witcher not he like knows what he's doing just years…." marden was rambling to himself whilst looking for the correct key for the lock whilst violence exploded all around him.

Hearing the unmistakable clunk sound of the key unlocking the lock the elves rushed through the barely open barred doors to join the fight,

"Yep go right ahead knock yourself out, what me? no ill wait" talking to himself again a few moments passed before he realised that someone had not yet moved.

"Well bugger me sideways, if it isn't Marden of Metinna" the unmistakable Mahakam accent came from the shadows of the wagon where the dwarf was still sat before walking to were the witcher was waiting.

"Casimir Bassi" was the only response the witcher gave as he stared the dwarf down.

The dwarf stood at the end of prison wagon his arms crossed staring at Marden with his one good eye, the witcher stared back with an equally stoic stare, the silence was broken when Casimir broke out into hysterical laughter which started Marden off too.

"Come ere ye big oaf of a witcher it's been too long" embracing the stocky the witcher they shared brief hugged.

"Casimir, you crazy bastard where have you been hiding all these years."

"Ah been in Alness for a few years."

"The country what business did you have there."

"It was no me that wanted ti move."

"Oh, how is your Euphemia by the way."

"Ah she's dead to me ran off with her fella and took the kids, dammit I gave everything up for that woman, the life, jobs, lighters, barrels the smoke everything and she threw it in my face."

"That's sad to hear mate truly, at least you still have your looks."

The two shared a brief laugh before realising where they were, In the middle of their brief catch up the fighting was starting to subside.

"Say how did you end up running with a group of circus elf's."

"I was out of work and they needed a pyrotechnic for some… flare."

"And how did end up in the back off their prison wagon."

"Well I was to meet them at the inn at the crossroads, I missed them on the way back but they picked me up when they had them."

The camp had gotten silent the skelligans and the elf's sat victoriously around the dead witch hunters, drinking ale and eating the roasting meat.

"Come on witcher let's have a drink."

Sitting around the fire the elf's and skelligans where laughing and drinking as they had dumped the dead bodies down an embankment that let into in the woods.

Marden and Casimir had taken up seats on a fallen log staring into the fire whilst sharing a moment of silence over a bottle some homemade vodka.

"They seem to be getting on well" mardens observation of one of the skelligan men dancing with the female elf whilst one played a tune on their lute. The rest of the group where playing scorcher a gwent drinking came where every time a card was decoyed, clear weathered or scorched the person who card it was had to take a shot.

"Aye, well not many people can refuse the charms of an elf let alone Eveline over there."

"You know her?"

"Long story."

"When is it not."

The camp had almost forgotten that they were certainly on their way to death had the witcher not come along, it all seemed a distant memory as there deep even breaths of sleep released any previous anxiety.

The only two in the camp where awake the witcher and the dwarf who had managed to polish of the bottle of homemade vodka and were onto their second one, dawn was some way of yet as they sat there in silence.

It had been decades since the two had seen each other and the silence was deafening.

"So" the silence was broken by the dwarf

"Where did you run off to Mardy" a small curl of grin appeared on Mardens lips

"Don't be starting that again Cas," a low chuckle came from the both of them as they swallowed back some more vodka.

"We couldn't live like that anymore, I couldn't live like that anymore we all thought it I was just the first one to go."

"Aye, I hear you didn't ye miss us, don't ye miss the crew now it wasn't all bad."

"For the longest time after I left I wanted to come back but how could I after what had happened."

"Argh, truth be told we didn't last long after that, Elli, Issa, Inga, Halvar. We all went our separate ways."

"What happened to them."

"Do ye really care or are ye just saying that" Casimir looked at Marden with an investigative look, it might have been well over twenty years but Casimir did have an uncanny ability to tell when he was lying.

"I" The rustling sound of the bushes snapped Marden out of his thoughts as he stood drawing knives from his belt. Pip came trotting out her face covered in dandelion fluffs.

"Goddammit pip" grabbing pip by the reins he took her to the other side of the wagons when he heard something coming over the horizon.

"Casimir wake the skeillgers and the elves we need to leave now!"

"Wake up damn you all wake up." Casimir's bellow could wake the dead and it did a fine job with the camp. As they began to stir the adrenaline that was in the air began to sink in

"We need to leave now" the urgency in mardens voice was transferring to pip as he still had hold of her reins as she began to pull her head back and protest.

"Don't be stupid well never make it back to the drop off point and we have wagons and I'm not leaving them!" Eveline voiced her opinion to which her elf counterparts agreed.

"Well I'm no dying for ni body let alone" the skelligans argument slipped into the ether as the voices of both parties were raised and the elves where now standing face to face arguing amongst themselves.

"Save me from the stubbornness of elves shut it all of you, you do know that we are we going to die if we stay here."

The thunder of horses and foot soldiers could be heard in the distance the witchers hearing could make out a rough number and equipment, heavy armour shields, swords fifteen five on horses a bannerman, Marden was making a mental log.

"Shit, enough all of you!" the camp grew silence as the witchers voice commanded attention.

"What've we got Marden" Casimir was uncharacteristically quite whilst the arguing was happening that the witcher almost forgot he was there.

"The Order of the Flaming Rose, seems these witch hunters weren't alone after all."

"How many?"

"Fifteen probably give or take, five horses heavily armed"

Casimir instructed the skelligan men to manoeuvre the wagons in an arch the three elven wagons to the back near woods, the other two wagons were to be left where they were as they had stopped either side of the prison wagon that lay in the middle.

The elves went into the back of the wagon pulling out the weapons that they had hidden a few swords, bows and crossbows.

Two of the skelligans had the elven crossbows at either side of the prison wagon whilst the other two had climbed into the back of the separate wagons with the swords they had previously stolen from the witch hunter's corpses.

The elves had climbed on top of the wagons a shimmied up the tree branches and were now completely hidden from sight.

Taking his steel sword of pip and strapping it to his back marden gave her a hard pat on her rear as she shot off into the woods knowing that something was about happen he didn't want her to get hurt.

Casimir was given a wood chopping axe from the elven troupe and had managed to get a few of his bombs back and gathered a few bottles of strong spirit that still lay around the campsite.

"Everyone stay quiet and wait for my signal." Marden ordered to the camp as they took their final preparations.

Dawn was breaking as the banner of the flaming rose appeared over the hill the crimson background with the red rose on fire was unmistakable and looked almost romantic on the sunrise backdrop as the darkness of night gave way to the bright light of the day.

Marden was right five fully mounted knights on horses appeared in his line of sight all wearing red heavy armour with intricate designs like tourney knights, if tourney knights were religious fanatics with a penchant for murdering people who looked at them wrong.

But there wasn't ten foot soldiers there was twenty foot soldiers who walked beside their knightly counterpart all looking like common bandits had robbed the knights for the equipment, closer and closer they approached the camp looking like a plague of wildfire spreading across the hillside burning the ground before them.

"Witcher!" one of the elves hissed as the approaching force where now in bow distance and where no match for elven archers.

"Wait for it, wait for it" the lines of the flaming rose grew closer when they began to break formation upon approaching the supposed derelict camp.

"Now!"

"That's the signal let's go, for Skellige"

The arrows let loose from there bows and came flying out of the trees with deadly precision one by one the less armoured foot soldiers were cut down, those lucky enough to have shields called out to each other to form a shield wall.

The skelligans burst out of there wagon frantically cursing, head butting, swinging taking down anyone who was unlucky enough to get caught in the path of their blade.

"Light this!" Casimir had presented Marden with a chain Molotov bomb, four bottles of spirits tied together one set on fire.

"Aim it at them pricks on the horse."

Throwing the Molotov Marden and Casimir ran straight into the fray attacking the shield wall and foot soldiers.

Swords clashed on swords the sound steel colliding rung through the air, the shields of the order snapped under the strength of the witcher and Casimir's attack.

The Molotov had done its job taking out two mounted knights and a fair number of soldiers as the flames burned through the ranks.

The three of the surviving mounted knights made charges at the skelligan managing to down one of them the other knight was not so lucky as he fell from his horse after the skelligan had punched his horse in face. The other knight was met with a crossbow bolt through his visor as the skelligan fired his last bolt, leaving only one knight left in the fight.

Fighting the brave fight began to take its toll on the group as the elves had run out arrows and they were down to two skeillgers as the other two were crawling back to the wagons

Marden and Casimir were being pushed on the back foot by remain soldiers and the reformed shield wall.

"Back to the woods, go run!" Marden ordered pushing the fighting skelligans as they were dragging their companions with them

As they reached the first line of wagons Casimir dropped two grapeshot under them exploding them and sending planks of wood and splinter shrapnel into the ranks of soldiers

"Casimir get them out of here now!" Marden had stopped in the now open space surrounded by the debris of what was once wagons.

"Dinnae be stupid you're no leaving again you stupid witcher" Casimir ran to the witchers side as they stood fighting the order.

Marden recalled the lessons he had to endure as a boy as he stood there facing multiple opponents his blade work was fast accurate each strike landing slicing the knights at the neck and dismembering limbs as he moved through the group like a ghost. Casimir was taking that axe to work constantly chopping, rolling out of the path of the swords proving quite the fighter.

Wave upon wave fell on sword and axe but they were relentless and didn't stop coming surrounding the two-fighters getting closer the witcher and dwarf where to meet there end by being extinguished by the flame.

Punching his hand into the ground casting a powerful Aard Marden created just enough room to grab Casimir and make a run for the wood, Casimir was unaware of the plan however and was still frantically chopping whilst being dragged by the back of his shirt.

The elves had come down from their position and helped the skelligans into woods and were luckily nowhere to be seen, reaching the tree line just before the embankment Marden saw movement letting go of Casimir Marden readied himself for more action.

"Kill the fucking dh'oine" a torrent of arrows flew over the witcher and dwarfs head flattening the pursuing soldiers.

"Charge!" the familiar gruff dwarf voice commanded as two rows of dwarven spear men ran towards the oncoming force of the order.

To Mardens surprise cleaver was leading the charge his trusty steel mace was now sporting spikes exiting from the steel balls indentation. The dwarven shield warriors and the elven swordsmen far outclassed the remaining number of order knights and the archers took out any soldiers trying to make a run for it.

"Get that knight off his horse."

No sooner had the command left his lips did a volley of arrows take down his horse grounding the knight.

The chaos of the fight was over and cleaver, the witcher and Casimir walked over to the downed night who was trapped under his horse.

Cleaver pulled the visor of the knight's helm back exposing his face.

"I bet you wasn't expecting this when you woke up this morning was you, who told you about the troupe give me a name."

The knight didn't respond instead spat in the mob bossed face. The dwarf recoiled as he was grimacing through his teeth he his wiped away the disgusting saliva.

"Now that wasn't very smart."

It was only when Marden grabbed a hold of cleavers arm had he realised that there was nothing left of the knight's face, just a pool of blood and shattered pieces of bone that had once been his skull.

"Ploughing hell, ah well it's good to see you again witch… Marden, where did all these come from?"

"Lornruk, I think they docked their ship there in order to avoid detection and take the prisoners to crane cape, I didn't think they would have this much back up."

The conversation was getting quitter as Casimir had walked up to one of the elven healers in the woods who was seeing to the injured skelligan. The scoia'tael healer had a crest patch on her eleven tunic of a black tree with two boars head facing opposite ways.

"Caed Dhu Tirth, you're the black forest wild boar scoia'tael unit, aren't you?"

The elf turned to the stout blood covered dwarf.

"Yes, and I would appreciate it if you backed up so I could help" the elf didn't have chance to finish as Casimir grabbed her by the shoulders and gave her a concerning look.

"Where is Inga?"


	4. Chapter 4

**_Authors note:_ _I would just like to thank everyone for the reviews and the tips as they are invaluable to me as a new writer. And as always hope you're enjoying the story._**

* * *

Chapter 4: Across the sea

Far away from the swamps of Velen, far from the bustling city of Novigrad and far from the ferocious roaring isle of Skellige the distant land of Ofir lays.

In the land of culture where Sultans replace kings, where purple, blue, silver and gold all dance intertwine. Where the soldiers carry curved blades, the palaces and cities casts shadows over the continent, where there towers of white marble stone and domes of purple are tipped with jewels, where the white ivory halls of the great Sultans are laden with water pools that reflect the golden snakes wrapping the columns of the great halls that's where Ofir lays.

Where the sun beats down relentlessly baking the ground under its gaze, where the great sand seas are only broken by the fresh springs of the oasis, where the monsters of the forest are swapped for the monsters of the sand that's where Ofir lays.

Where coin is to be made by anyone mad enough to make it, where the thrill of the fight and the job are the only thing that make you feel alive where mercenaries thrive that is what makes Ofir home.

Fifty years ago, in the purple sail a portside bar in Ofir a group of mercenary's sit at their table and bench shaded from the gaze of the people and the shade of the sun under their canopy.

To any non-traveller of the world this portside city could be mistaken for the capital. Merchants lined the street selling anything a man could desire, jasmine and sandalwood hung in the air clinging to every fibre, the bartering of captains with their crew littered the docks as ships where making ready to travel across the sea to the lands of the continent and beyond.

Pressing the cold mug of ale against his jawline in the open tavern accompanied by Halvar and Casimir, Marden and the rag tag group where pondering on what had just befell them.

"Bhahahaha" slamming down his tankard on the dusty wooden table sending the liquid contents of his beverage over the brim and onto the floor, Halvar had been laughing for a good two minutes.

"All right that's enough, it could happen to any of us" Marden protested sulking his face on his tankard.

"Aye, but it happened to you Mardy, you let a fairy of an Ofiri bandit smack you upside the head with his spear, you're lucky it wasn't the pointy end"

"The sun was in my eyes"

"Baha, oi Cas have you heard this"

Casimir Bassi was ordering another round of ale for the group from the bar as they were determined to enjoy their earnings. shuffling through the bar being careful not to spill Casimir slumped to his places on the bench.

"Oh, don't go getting him involved all he had to do was drive the wagon"

"Dinnae be giving me that cheek Mardy, if ye remember rightly It was me that shot that fairy"

"Bloody good shot by the way, I saw that from where I was" Halvar was agreeing with Casimir as they slammed their tankards together wasting more good ale.

"Ah fuck haha, to the Dhu Coram"

"The Dhu Coram!" the echoes of cheer where accompanied by laughter and the slamming of tankards again wasting more good ale as it sloshed over the sides splashing upon the table kicking off dust.

* * *

In the early hours of the morning where the only creatures that stirred where rats and bakers where the sun was hidden by the darkness of night is when the group had been approached by an Ofir silk merchant proposing a job.

Rather simple as jobs go, two wagons carrying spices and silks bound for Kovir, they were to travel to the drop off point at the edge of the village so the workers there could transfer the load to the docks.

The two witchers and the dwarf had already accepted the contract they didn't care what it was or where they were going they were fearless.

The scorching heat of the dessert was enough to drive the common person mad, perhaps it was this mid-day heat that prompted the bandits to attack because if they had looked closer they would have seen that this wasn't an ordinary wagon route.

Whilst resting at the watering oasis taking advantage of the shade and water for the horses there only brief respite before being attached back to the wagon and fed. Laying in their makeshift hammocks the witchers spied a scout looking down on them from the canyon.

"Mardy, you see that prick there, been following us since we left" Halvar was staring at the scout on the edge of the canyon as he sat on the edge of his hammock. "I reckon we'll be in for a scrap the next time we set off"

"Good cause I'm sick of all this foreplay" the stout dwarf remarked as he was cleaning and oiling the crossbow, it was good practise to keep the hinges and moving parts clear of dust and grit especially when they might be using them soon.

Marden folded up his hammock and gave the word for the others to pack up as they set out on the road again.

"I make out ten Halvar what say you?"

"Aye"

Barrelling down the side of canyon slope kicking up the dry dust as they charged for the wagons looking like a thunderstorm on the horizon, the Ofiri bandits screamed as they charged.

As if by some form of telepathy Marden, Casimir and Halvar all threw their northern wind bombs, turning the dry dusty ground of the desert into a sheet of ice causing the horses to skid, buck and crash into each other leaving the bandits to fight on foot.

Putting some distance between them and the sheet of encroaching ice marden and Halvar jumped off their wagons and walked towards the downed Ofiri.

If a witcher with a sword is a feast for the eyes than a witcher with a Warhammer is a sight for the ages and coincidentally the last thing a foe has ever seen. The weapon favoured by the bear witcher would take four strong men to lift, the two-handed Warhammer was black with a tinted blue colouring the hammer side of the weapon was littered with six peaking spikes whilst the rear of the hammer was pointed and sharpened into a blade.

* * *

Hard training from his homeland of Skellige Halvar of Undvik was a true bear witcher not just because he was brought to the guild as a child but also by his stature, all witchers are taught the same fundamentals combat, signs, alchemy, and a many other tirade of skills mediation, oils, bombs hand to hand not to mention the vast array of books that needed to be consumed before a life on the path could begin.

It's not surprising then that each school leaned towards certain teachings more than others. Halvar leaned towards the more forceful of options.

Faroe was one of the smallest island in Skellige but its people where far from inferior to the rest of the isle, approaching the notice board Halvar scanned the board.

"Wanted strong men for hard work, barmaid required for the Pebble and Pond," Halvar was close to giving up util he saw it.

"Missing daughter, ah finally."

Tying his mount to the stable hold Halvar strolled through the narrow paths of the village, women ushered their children out of the way of the witcher whilst the children where set that they had just seen a giant.

A small path twisted its way from the centre of the village as the land rose to meet the woods the witcher had finally arrived at the house, a withered woman was sat on a bench her sheep skin coat pulled up around her shoulders her thick skelligan pants were wrapped and tied leading into her thick wolf skin boots.

"Ah a witcher fellow, what brings ye ti Faroe"

"Greetings, ye post the notice"

"Aye, almost forgot about that"

"What happened?"

"Well twas one moon past, mi daughter Issa her husband was murdered, he's a hunter ye see or was and he didn't make it ome, Issa went looking for him she did but she didn't return either"

"Do you know what he died off."

"Ravaged by some woodland spirit they said, and I fear that's what took my Issa."

Halvar shadow had fully disappeared along with the old woman as the blue sky of the day was now replaced by the sparkling tints of the night stars, Halvar decided now was a good a time as any as he approached the woods where the old lady had said her daughter and her daughters husband went missing.

Coming on the edge of the crime scene in a small clearing, Halvar began his investigation, there was no body the old woman mentioned about a group of lads going to reclaim it but the after math of the event still lingered on the ground at least for a witcher.

"That's a lot of blood, the hunter was thrown into the tree from behind then pinned their thrown back to ground where he most likely died."

Thinking out loud and scanning the ground Halvar's mind flicked through the potential options at what could have befell the hunter, the grass was clean not accounting the stains of blood and kicked up dirt caused by the commotion of the event.

"Grass isn't burnt, no spectre or spirit did this."

Stepping back from the scene before him Halvar walked through the trees, tracks of every kind of woodland creature filled the area, deer, wolf, sheep. Reaching his hand to tree next to him he pressed his fingers into the deep lines that scored the bark.

"What do we have here, urgh that stench leshens don't leave that stench behind"

Examining the tree that the hunter was thrown into the bark was ripped from the tree as if it was clenched from a hand in a feudal rage.

"Halvar you bloody fool!"

Standing in the centre where the body had laid Halvar looked up at the sky, the thick dark clouds separated bringing the pale light of full moon into view. The blood curdling howl shivered down the woodland form tallest peak in Faroe.

"Let's get this over with" Halvar hadn't turned around he didn't need too he could hear the growled breathing through snarled teeth.

The werewolf appeared its long frame was curled over on its front paws eyeing the witcher waiting for the first movement.

Lunging forward the werewolf's jaws were wide anticipating the flesh to come this was no wondering woodsman however and the bite was met with a domed shield of Quen, drawing his silver sword the witcher grimaced as the force of attack shook the witchers frame.

They danced the dance of the devil the werewolf's strong jaws looking for any opportunity to kill the witcher, the witcher dodged rolled strafed just about everything the long years at the school of the bear taught him to do, the trees glowed from the purple runes that littered the ground.

Stalking its prey, the werewolf crouched, the earth around the paws of the beast began to rise as its claws pushed into the ground sinking its weight on its hind legs preparing for another attack, lunging forward again the beast managed to come down on the witchers silver sword biting it in half and throwing the witcher into the tree.

Leaves cascaded from the branches of the tree as the frame of the witcher cracked the trunk,

Standing across from the witcher the werewolf snarled prowling forward preparing for its final attack.

Scrambling for his crossbow that he prayed still worked Halvar found nothing but smashed wood and string, Halvar reached for his large kukri knife on the back of his belt as he regained his breath.

"Bring it! you over grown lap dog!"

The two forces collided as the witcher and the werewolf locked horns, clamping its jaws on the witchers left gauntlet Halvar let out a protesting groan as he drove his knife into the belly of the beast lifting the monster and slamming the werewolf to the ground.

"Stop squirming you flea bitten mutt!"

The thrashing that the beast gave in protest as it tried to stand was soon nullified when the witcher mounted the monster placing his weight over the beast's chest, the red fur of the monster was bunched up in fist of his now free hand.

Punch after punch after punch connected with the beast's head bouncing the werewolf's head of the ground, with each strike the witcher could feel the monsters resolve giving until the witcher noticed the familiar look as the beast eyes rolled back and the protesting came to a halt, rolling of the beast exhausted Halvar laid on his back staring at the pool of stars as his vision faded.

The tweeting sound of the Faroe island birds signalled the start of the day, the pale blue sky over the island brought a sense of freshness the white streaks of the clouds darted across the sky.

"W... what, who are you, what are you doing here?" the strange voice almost sounded muffled as if under water "why am I naked who are you?"

"Lass my head is pounding could you lay of the questions" Halvar responded his eyes still closed as suns light stirred him from his lethargic state "oh no."

Taking his riding cloak he wrapped it around his new companion, offering a drink from his water skin.

"So, lass you've got some issues that for sure, who are you."

"I... Issa, m..my names Issa"

"So, you're the missing daughter and I take it you killed your husband the hunter"

"Aye I didn't mean to, I…I.. I came through the woods to get to the mountain to wait out the change and the next thing I know I woke up with blood in my mouth"

Halvar wanted to scold himself for not thinking of it earlier how could he have missed the signs, there was another far more primal reason he wanted to scold himself too the werewolf was gorgeous.

After she had stopped crying and her breathing had slowed did Halvar get to see her for the beauty she was, her hair was fiery red that cascaded down her neck and over her shoulders, her eyes where a piercing emerald green which made her features even more sharper her figure was not different to any other skelligan woman however she was not without shape, the stress of turning into a werewolf had forced her to have more muscle than most girls but it didn't look out of place it made her look healthy and athletic which was a surprise to the witcher.

The scars from the battle had already turned to faint silver line's and the mark where he had run her through with his knife was just a red line as his knife lay in a blood pool in the muddy forest ground, she ensured the witcher that come tomorrow there would be no evidence of them at all.

"Your mother sent me out looking for you, you need to go back lass,"

"No, I can't you don't understand they'll kill me or cast me out I'm better out hear alone"

The woeful voice of the red-haired woman struck a cord deep in the witcher, Faroe wasn't a big place and without the means of gaining gold to leave it would only be a matter of time until someone brought her down.

"You don't have to be alone" Halvar stood collecting his knife wiping away the dirt and mud.

"What you saying you going to kill me"

"Don't be daft your silly mare, I meant if you wanted to you could come with me I'm leaving for Metinna in the morning you could start a new from there"

Placing his knife back in his sheath Issa pondered the choices that laid before she could either stay in Faroe and lead a life of struggle and fear as a hermit or follow the witcher.

"Wow, well there nothing left for me in Faroe I suppose…. why not aye I'll go with you, first ill need clothes."

Scooping her up in his arms Halvar and Issa set a course for Metinna.

* * *

Firing bolts from his crossbow Casimir provided brief cover fire as the two witchers worked their way through the group Halvar was off breaking bones fighting like raged bull, Mardens two elven sabre where dancing as if he where the eye of a tornado and his swords the wind, the leader of the bandits spun his spear with expert timing and skill Marden dodged and blocked the serpent like attack, managing to knock one sabre out his hand marden was fully of the defensive.

With blinding speed Marden felt and herd the sound of the spear whipping across his face a lesson he will never forget. Another thing Marden will never forget that day was the sound of crossbow bolt whistling past his ear and into the attacker's neck as he was seconds away from becoming a skewered piece of meat.

"Like I said it could happen to anyone, now can we just forget it and move on"

"ohh wee lamb, our boy is getting grumpy witcher maybe we best get more ale for our mardy"

"Aye make sure you get two one for his mouth the other for his face"

"Right that's it"

The laughter that bellowed from the witcher and dwarf were soon silenced as Marden smashed the tankard over the skelligan and jumped over the table for the dwarf. The dust of their commotion only managed to scare the horses as the rest of tavern where silenced by what came into view.

Floating through the crowd three women headed towards dust ball. One Issa her hair as radiant as fire, green eyes that would shame any jewel led the pack of disgruntled looking women. The other woman was a slim elf, her hair cut short proudly showing off her ears her brown eyes scanned the room as she winked at the barman, her slender frame rocked side to side accentuating her figure. Following behind the two ladies was another her eyes a sharp blue and hair as black as night stood out on her fair pale skin.

"Ahem…ahem!" the dust settled to revel the three men locked in combat all tied together like a rope knot, "its rude to fight in front of a lady let alone three"

The fiery haired maiden crossed her arms as she eyed up the larger of the witchers.

"And you should be especially ashamed, a skelligan wasting good ale like that for no good reason"

"I agree, we don't even have a tankard for ourselves for shame gentlemen, I thought dwarfs took their drinking seriously" looking down at the soak dwarf the slender elf crossed her arms shaking her head.

"I bet I know who the culprit is for shame Marden" her piercing blue eyes starred hypnotically into his own.

After a brief silence the deep chuckle of laughter emanated from Issa,

"Well don't just sit there get the drinks in we are the Dhu Coram and what's a black lion without a drink!"

The table was propped back up as the dwarf went for more drinks, rather masterfully he managed not spill any, Issa sat on the lap of her Halvar as Inga and Casimir traded friendly insults that including him betting her he could out shoot her. Cheers erupted from the group when Marden and Elli totalled the coin they had made as once again ale was wasted as the tankards of the group collided with each other.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Va Fail

Inga wasn't born into the life of a mercenary, her life started in a much simpler comfortable way. Born in Dol Blathanna her father Donlarr was a successful painter, sculptor and design architecture so much so that he was sought out across the continent to teach and oversee contractors for the royal courts, her mother Enra was a healer and dealt exclusively in herbs and remedies most of her treatments and cures were the staple for many educational society's and later used by the elven rebels. Inga was born to the loving couple and although steered toward the medicinal arts by her mother Inga's true passion lay in the more hands on of skills, constantly tormenting her father and mother with flips, spins and sword drills, her father finally relented and used some of his acquired wealth to enlist in the help of professional trainers to learn his daughter.

At the age of twelve Inga showed promise in both archery and blade work being able to hit targets that even most elves couldn't see, she also became adapt at infusing her natural acrobatic ability with elegant footwork and the intricate blade work of the Addan Anye fencing style.

Donlarr built his estate as a place of tranquillity a place that he used to spark his imagination, Inga however had other ideas her parents sprawling estate served more as her battle ground than any of the family's tranquil places of solitude. Her lessons in archery, sword fighting, survival and medicine that her mother insisted on ran riot on the grounds of the estate.

It was early in the morning that Inga's lesson began, splitting the day as per her tutors wishes a cool wind travelled through the valley of flowers as Donlarr took some of the spare time that he gained after travelling to Vizima to finish off his little darling's masterpiece, leisure painting as he put it helped him focus and recharge as the applying constraint of royalty was tiring.

"Now remember back muscles not your arms, breath in and release"

The antler tipped oak arrows whistled through the air as the goose feather wings tightened its spin another arrow split the other that was already placed in the bullseye,

"Yes! That's three for three now sword drills you promised"

Inga took to the Addan Anye like a duck to water, most of her sparring partners underestimated her which she used to her advantage, her elegant focused balanced footwork allowed her to out manoeuvre even the fastest of fencers, adding in her natural acrobatic talent her swift blade work allowed her to gain leverage and position over her enemy, the fluidity, precision and economy of motion moulded her into every bit a fighter.

"Who are we sparring today hopefully not the two from last week" Inga's exasperated tone forced a smile on her instructor's lips.

"Not this time, you've all but used up my students, so this time you will be sparring me"

Inga drew her sparing rapier placing her left arm behind her back and standing in a t shape fencing stance with her right foot forward and her left foot facing at a 90-degree angle she bent her knees sinking into her stance.

Her instructor adopted the same stance as they flourished their swords in a ceremonious salute.

"Ready?" her instructor voice was calm as he held his sword with a light grip looking like it was about to fall out of his hand.

Low, high, high, low, spin, flip, riposte, parry, high, high, low. Her footwork was a mesmerising balance of straight line advances and retreats her blade work was a complementing mix of circular and straight moves, her master was naturally far better every attack was met with a block he spun away from her advancing footwork. The singing of blades glancing of each other rung in the air. Inga advanced with a lunge twisting her wrist her blade caught between the handle and handguard of her teacher and in one fluid motion Inga flicked the sparing rapier out of his hand.

* * *

When the sun rises over the horizon it usually inspires the feeling of comfort, warmth a sense of content, when the Deithwen banner rises over the horizon the white flame causes even those of the most religious of stock fear for their lives.

The Fire, smoke and boiling blood of non-humans choked the air as Dol Blathanna burned, the mounted units and heavy armed foot soldiers of Emhyr legions set alight the elven city. Stone was ripped apart as bombs flew through the windows of the houses of thick clouds of smoke blocked out the stars of the night sky.

Emhys legions had rolled into the city flooding through the streets, Emhyr had heard reports of rebellion and descent among the populace and not needing even more of an excuse to cull the non-humans he decided a trial by fire would be their fate.

Surrounding the Dornall estate the white flame legion called for the elven traitors, breaking down the gate flames erupted through the grounds. Approaching the front door, the battering ram of the great sun knocked.

"Go with your father!"

"Mother i don't want to leave, please!" the cries of their young daughter screeched through the halls of their house as Inga desperately tried to pry her way from her father's grasp kicking against his form desperate for release.

Bundling his daughter up into his arms Dornall left Enra behind, knowing that the two of them would not survive Dornall had arranged a wagon to take his daughter to ports of Cintra where a trusted friend would take her to Novigrad until she came of age leave.

Through the hallways of the house Inga cried, through the escape tunnel in the wine cellar Inga cried her echoes roared through the empty tunnel, running through the darkness the steps before him lit only by the dim light from his torch, the tunnel came up on the wood line past the estate. Inga's father had spied the wagon as it laid in wait placing his daughter into the back of the wagon Dornall new this was the last time he would see his daughter.

Drawing her husband's sword from the side Enra waited as the slams on the door grew louder and louder.

Bursting through the door the black legion stood.

"Where is your husband elf scum, where is the traitor!"

The swords of the legions soldiers far outmatched her own, Enra gave her life for her daughter. Dying on the cold stone steps of the villa was the lesser of two evils.

"Inga, you take this and you stay quiet you understand!" handing her a sword, bow and arrow Dornall ran his thumb across his daughter's cheek wiping away the tears.

"Shhh now my little darling, remember everything we taught you and don't look back."

"Father I can't leave you" the little girls pleas to her father broke every inch of his heart but he couldn't leave, he couldn't turn his back on the people he swore freedom to.

Smacking the side of the wagon the driver gave a firm slap on the reins pulling off from Dornall before throwing him an axe.

"Look after my daughter Tulrard" the dwarven driver nodded before giving a firmer slap on the reins.

"Daddy!"

"Va fail, my little darling"

The shadow of her father growing smaller as he ran back toward the burning city was the last thing Inga saw.

* * *

Bolting up from her sleeping mat Inga woke the cold beads of sweat running down her stuck to her shirt like glue. Looking around the camp Inga smelled the fragrance of cooking meat, roasting a rabbit on the fire Casimir sat on his mat staring into his glass of homemade berry vodka.

"Hope ye don't mind I couldn't sleep, thought I'd cook the rabbit from earlier" the stout dwarf passed her a cup of dark red liquid.

Sitting up crossing her legs Inga gave a graceful nod before taking sip, deep heavy coughs followed the first sip followed by the familiar choking sounds as the burning feeling of the vodka flowed down her throat.

"What the fuck is that?"

"Mi own berry vodka, made it myself whatdya think?"

"Suppose it's better than that horrible selection of ale they had at the tavern that shit taste like witch's piss"

"Aye that it does"

Sitting on their mats Casimir and Inga starred silently into the flame, before emptying their cups that Casimir filled up again, the rabbit darkened as the flamed cooked the tender meat.

Casimir had been with Inga for longer than he had cared to admit and knew her story as much as she knew his so he never questioned the nights she woke up screaming or the days where she said nothing, since landing back on the continent she had become more pessimistic and stoic leaving the Dhu Coram affect everyone in the group differently being forced to leave the mercenary life behind forced her to consider alternatives and the only one that made sense was for her to join Caed Dhu Tirth scoia'tael.

Breaking the silence Inga sighed.

"How long until we reach Velen now"

"Four more days I reckon, what's the unit again ceaa di tun"

"C-A-E-D D-H-U T-I-R-T-H…. it means black forest wild boars" Letting out a small chuckle Inga corrected her dwarven companion shaking her head as she took another sip of the dark red spirit.

"What about you, where will you head off to Cas I hardly see you putting down the detonator."

"Ah! Euphemia got a way to man's heart, suppose I'll settle down with her have some more kids ye know the simple life"

Taking another sip of her vodka Inga nodded, the lives they lived in Ofir were anything but simple or quiet. A life they would never forget.

* * *

The hillside of Toussaint where always looking for workers and if it's one place Casimir felt comfortable it was underground. On the far outskirts of Toussaint Casimir was working as explosive foreman for a budding vintner.

Whilst on the way back from the lake where Casimir had washed off the dirt of the day he heard movement in the distant bushes faint sounds of a women's voiced back by that of men could be heard, quickly putting on his clean clothes he grabbed his axe and set off into the woods.

Stood there in the opening was the most skilled elf with a blade he had ever seen she danced between the bandits like the flames of a fire, Casimir focus was only broken when she was sent tumbling to the ground after being hit from behind with a shield.

"Ho! What's going on ere"

"What's it to you dwarf?" one the bandits spat

"These men tried to rob me, they wanted to hunt panthers it's not my fault they can't hit the broadside of a barn, I was protecting myself"

"Lies, all you she elf lie"

The elf hadn't left the gaze of the bandits as she sat up from the tackle, the night sky had chilled the warmth of the day and it was too late in the night for blood.

"Gentlemen we are in Toussaint surely ye can find a more pleasurable thing to do, what say ye let her go and we say no more about it," Walking to the centre of the group Casimir extended his arm and with a warm smile offered her a helping hand to stand up "come on miss…?".

"Inga, it's just Inga" tentatively excepting the offer.

"She's not going anywhere dwarf! And neither are you"

"Is that so" lifting his axe into his grasp Casimir eyed the four men as the smile left his face "well time and tide wait for no man,"

The moon is a strange thing it has so many impacts on the world, the cursed beings of werewolf's twist and contort under its pale light, the once gentle lapping tides can roar up and drown late night fishermen, some scholars have even debated that a full moon can send a normal person into frenzied behaviour that otherwise wouldn't be conducted.

The thick blades of grass in the sun look inviting enough for food to be eaten off whilst in the light of the moon it becomes more of a sea of the dark unknown, blood is another thing that changes in moonlight the red tint is changed for a black liquid void of anything else and the bodies of four dead mean defiantly left a lot of blood on the floor.

"You didn't have to do that"

"Of course, I did I wasn't about to let some scum carry off like that, hmm must be the chivalry in the water" patting down the dead victims of the bandits Casimir threw the coin pouches at Inga.

"Take this find yourself a room and leave at first light, trust me you don't want them jumped up squires sniffing on your tail."

Removing the blood from his axe Casimir set off for the inn, his plans had been left with the vintner so Casimir was moving off on the search for more work. Strolling down the dusty road Casimir listened to the buzz of firefly and chirp of crickets. Trying as hard as he might to block of the sound of footsteps, the elf clearly had no sense of direction in this exotic land.

"What do ye want, I already dirtied my axe for ye"

"You seem like someone who well travelled, i want to travel, take me with you, i can help, I can't stand it here wine, wine, wine if I hear any more I'm going to be sick"

Sure, Toussaint lived, drank and spoke wine but surely the mild climate and colours of the duchy, the lively inhabitants, the variety of people almost everything more than made up for it. After all Toussaint looked and felt like it was totally set away from the world.

Casimir noticed a slight peak in her voice covering something perhaps he thought, Casimir didn't pry he was too focused on the cold tankard of ale that waited for him and his hot pork meal complete with potato mash. Along with the long journey that awaited him he began thinking of the use a pair of elf eyes could have, Casimir mused to himself.

"Ah plough it all come have a drink, I might just have a job for ye"

* * *

"I said where is Inga!" shaking the elf violently by the shoulders Casimir was repeating himself frantically.

Walking over to the commotion Marden and Cleaver pulled Casimir of the elf, trying there best to calm the situation.

The shield warriors had managed to drag the dead to the embankment as they retreated safely into the wood. The high trees of the wood had darkened the light of the sun a thick smell of moss and wet bark floated in the air.

The broad Mahakam accent of the dwarf was toned down when he was talking to other people having travelled enough of the world to know that you can accomplish more if you can relate to people and talk to them.

Times of increase stress however blurred that line, where all that was audible was the enunciated curse words that flowed like lava from his seething mouth anything other than that was a blur.

"Casimir slow down, what are you talking about"

"These fuckin shites! Inga joined these and if I'm hearing the pointy eared pricks right they let her get captured!"

Few of the elves started to stir at the comment, but Casimir hadn't noticed and his mad rambling had increased his face growing redder by the minuet.

"Slow down dammit, just breath"

"Fuck that!" grabbing his axe from the stump Casimir moved with purpose "we are going to get her now!"

Storming off towards the clearing Casimir red mist had descended he hadn't noticed that Cleaver and Marden were blocking his path.

"Can't let you do that mate I'm afraid"

"You going to stop me gangster"

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't cave your skull in like sir fuck head of who cares over there"

"Lads let's just calm down, Cleaver has a point we can't just ride up to crane cape"

"We have to do something we can't let her die"

Casimir had loosened his grip on his axe and walked back to the stump, slamming himself down on the small protruding wood Casimir mind raced at what fate Inga could have gotten herself into.

"Cas, mate we'll get her back"

"And how in the name of all that is holy are we going to do that, like you said we can't just ride up to the cape."

Pacing around the wood Marden looked around glancing upon the skelligans who had been finished bandaged up by the very talented elf healers, to their credit they had also managed to dampen the flames of the hopeful skelligan men who even though where severely injured still tried for a kiss. The dwarf shield warriors where sat as they shared a drink some road rations, as the elven swords and archers kept a watchful eye on the forest.

Approaching the embankment Marden looked out on the destruction that he was lucky to escape from. He was right that was a lot of back up five mounted Knights twenty soldiers much more than a scouting party.

"I've got it!" Cleaver looked up from his mace as he was pulling pieces of bone from the congealed blood that covered the steel spikes and dints, Casimir head shot up to the voice that broke through stillness of the air.

"Mardy what the fuck are you talking about"

"We can't ride but we can sail"

Twisting the handle of the mace retracting its spikes Cleaver stood up as his mind started to wonder what the witcher had in store.

"Cleaver, I've got a contract for you"

A vile sadistic smile appeared on Mardens face matched by the dwarf's devilish grin.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6: Calm

Night time had fallen upon the trees of the forest, the make shift camp that the men elves and dwarfs had made was calm with the slight murmuring of conversions exchanging various stories.

Marden had taken this time to slip away for a moments peace, the cold nip of air greeted him as he walked away from the fire, sitting on the cold forest grass propping his body up against a tree he leaned his head back against the rough bark and gazed into the night sky.

Marden was not alone in the wood his inner monologue began taking form, thinking of the change in his life over the last few days.

Five years maybe it wasn't a long time for a witcher but five years and nothing but fist fights this was different, try as he might to push Ofir from his mind seeing Casimir dragged it back into the front light of his thoughts.

The random scattering of his thoughts was broken when he heard the pattering of hooves, glancing over to her direction there he saw her chasing the fireflies that buzzed in the night air. She never seemed to tire of It no matter how many times she missed when she tried to catch them in her mouth.

Letting his eyes rest Marden let himself drift off the sound of the hooves and buzzing of flies were like a rhythmic tune. Rain had just started drifting in when the witcher closed his eyes the soft patter of the rain drops over the tree's brought on his sleep.

* * *

The light of the great sun was beginning to fade as the evenings practice was ending, signs weren't the strong point of the viper school but were vital to a witchers survival and once a witcher had managed the basic they could then begin implement them with their sword skills.

All the students had retreated to the halls of the great keep as the last night time meal was being served, only Ivar, Marden and Master Vetek of Maribor the resident mage of the school of the viper were in the practice yard.

Master Vetek was a tall, thin and quick to temper mage with a mild tobacco addiction and a preference for spells that sparked, putting up with the constant lingering smell of mint flavoured smoke was a small comprise Ivar thought as there wasn't anyone that he would trust to teach his young witchers about signs and magic than Vetek.

Standing with his arms crossed his eyes baring down on the young witcher stance, his white bone pipe hung from the corner of his mouth as he cradled it in his hand, wearing a black Nilfgaardian suit that had scattered enchantments lining his sleeves and neck line Vetek shoved Marden feet with his own.

Starring up at the mage Marden got a glance his hair a pale grey styled in a mohawk strip ran from the front of his head and was twisted into a dwarven braid the stopped in the centre of his back, his beard had the same braid and stopped at his chest clamped with a hissing head bone of a cobra.

Sitting across the practice yard Ivar was taking light sips from his herbal tea, looking over the rim of the mug as Vetek shifted the young witchers stance again.

"Bend your knees and push off your back leg" grabbing Marden by the crooks of his knee's forcing them into the shape of the stance he desired.

"Now, do it again"

Sparks left his hand.

"Again"

Sparks

"Again"

More sparks

"Fool of a witcher! You'll be dead the first year on the path!"

Emptying his pipe and refilling it just as quickly Vetek stormed off towards the hall, hours of his time had been spent with generations of witchers not once had one irritated him so much over a simple sign.

Marden walked to the side benches where his shirt and water skin where. Wiping the sweat from his brow and throwing his shirt on in a sulk Marden hadn't noticed the figure who was still sat on his bench.

Steam wisped up from the liquid that filled his cup as Ivar poured another drink, turning to leave through the arch of the practice courtyard looking back over his shoulder he saw Ivar place his cup down.

"I don't remember dismissing you"

Freezing in his place like a doe in the sight of a hunters arrow the young witcher stood daring not to move, Ivar enigmatic tone made it hard for the young witcher to decipher if he was in trouble.

Standing from his bench Ivar walked towards Marden who had still not turned to face his master,

"You should look at the person who's speaking to you"

Still not moving Ivar waked to the front of the young witcher before kneeling to eye his eye level placing his hand on his shoulder Mardens gaze finally rose, first to his master hand that looked huge compared to his small frame having yet to grow into his adult witcher body, eventually marden looked his master in the eye.

"M..m..master I..I"

"You're thinking too much" the sombre voice of the master interrupted

A confused expression crossed the young witchers face.

Covering the young witcher in his shadow as he rose and walked towards the practise swords, throwing one over to Marden, master and student where the only people left in the courtyard.

"I want you to forget all that Vetek has said, this is free drilling and I want you to hit me with Aard"

Marden opened his mouth to voice his protest but instead was met with a practise sword aiming for his head, Ivar was only going at ten percent but the blinding speed that the old witcher had shocked him his first lesson never underestimates anyone.

Igni, Igni, Igni every time marden tried to cast Aard sparks flew from his hand and shattered upon Ivar Quen shield, stepping to the side parrying Mardens overhead strike Ivar span swinging his sword to Marden foot sweeping him whilst casting Aard sending the young witcher flying across the cold stone ground.

The moon was the only light that was cast on the ground. Stirring from the ground Marden rose again to face his master the fury burning in his eyes.

"Did I not tell you that you are thinking too much"

Charging at his master, Marden was once again side stepped and hit around the back of the head.

"Anger won't make you better"

Again, he charged, Ivar gripped marden sword, violently the young witcher pulled and pulled trying to free his weapon. Lifting him up and casting Aard marden flew back across the ground again.

"See all that anger and what did you achieve, just breath clear you mind"

Throwing the sword back to his apprentice Marden got up once again, sinking into his ready stance they started again, Ivar pushed Marden on the back foot using his blade work in reverse to block and parry the advancement of the master witcher.

Sweeping Marden blade out of the way Ivar kicked his young apprentice in the chest sending him rolling backwards towards the stone edging of the training yard. Looking up to see his advancing master Marden dug his back foot into the ground pushing his left arm towards Ivar.

The cold brush of air broke his stride, silence was all that Marden could hear as he forced his eyes shut not knowing if he was unconscious or not, slowly his eyelids separated allowing the pale light of the moon to fill his vision.

Ivar was nowhere to be seen leaving the young witcher highly confused, looking over to the bench Ivar sat lifting the mug as he finished his tea off in one quick gulp.

"Well done"

* * *

The slow murmurs of the camp grew bringing Marden out of his dream. Casimir was inspecting Cleavers mace admiring its intricate design and the dwarven runes that scattered along the weapon. The handle of the weapon was spilt by a thick steel line that ran through the lines and ridges of the grip.

"Go ahead twist the bottom section of the handle, no not like that here let me show you"

Taken the mace from Casimir, Cleaver gripped the steel weapon in his callous hands he gave the bottom half of the handle a violent twist accompanied by a clunk as spikes extended from the ball.

"Had it commissioned by an elven smith in Novigrad"

"I think I might pay him a visit before I leave get myself one of those haha."

Marden walked to the fire that the dwarfs were sitting at and was greeted by a mug of homemade pepper vodka, taking the cup without acknowledging the hand that offered it to him he stared into the fire, before taking up a seat next to Casimir.

"We need to make a plan we can't just go up there knock on the door and ask for Inga back"

"Oh, now ye care ye buggered off and left us"

"Cas can we talk about that later we need a plan"

"No let's talk about this right now"

The bickering of the two was growing before it was silenced when the dwarf sat at the other side of Casimir spoke up, his sombre gruff voice broke through the argument. Placing down his empty mug of vodka.

"If we are going up there we aren't just going for her" confused looks met Cleavers statement.

"We are getting them all as many as we can that includes the humans too"

"I'll not risk my neck for no dh'oine"

The shadowy figure had been observing the conversation from the shadow of the tree's, approached the group sat beside the fire.

The short she elf stood above the seated company. wearing the green and brown camouflage of the woods, her thick padded gambeson had the patch of her unit on her arm, on her other arm of her tunic she proudly wore patches belonging to the Redanian army the order of the flaming rose and the witch hunters, all enemies she and her unit had defeated in battle her elven blade strapped to her hip, her was quiver packed with arrow's and her bow was strapped to her back, her hair was a light brown and tied into a ponytail exposing her face tattoos.

Marden stood to greet the leader of the group that was approaching, having been so involved in the bickering he had not even noticed that the she was there.

"Didn't you hear what Cleaver said, they need our help and it's about time we got our own back on them scumbags"

"I heard the dwarf fine Vatt'ghern, I've got my own back on them plenty of times which is more than you can say!"

"Oi, listen ere you pointy ear prick what type of a leader lets members of their units gets captured and not try to help them!"

"All of my unit know the risk Casimir, casualties of war!"

"Right that's it I'm gonna kill her"

"Cas! put the ploughing axe down"

The shouts form the witcher, elves and dwarves erupted like a barrel of explosive powder, it hadn't taken much it never took much not for Casimir to lose his temper especially when it was about the people he cared about.

Marden and Cleaver had separated the group the archers where pointing their arrows at the dwarfs who were stood behind their shield with the spears pointed at them as opinion divided the group.

"Everyone calm down! I brought you all here I'm the one funding your attacks, tipping you off about routes, Casimir is right leaving them to the hunters and the Redanian army you're no better."

Stoically the commander stood running her hand across the patches on her arm, tracing her fingers over her units patch she contemplated what she and her kind had been reduced to and how they had been treated at the hands of humans.

"We take Lornruk that's it."

Forming a circle around the fire the group contemplated their attack, they needed more number's that was a given they had enough equipment and knew how to fight. Cleaver started phase one of the plan.

"Judging by the dead numbers, Lornruk should be nearly empty and only a skeleton crew should be on the ship, I wouldn't think any of the order would be left. Either way I want a scout sending out to both locations"

Marden placed his mug down offering his insight.

"We could pay the crew off and whatever people are managing Lornruk and the ship, there not going to want to die for some jumped up guards and knights"

Nods from around the camp signalled the agreement, the plans of how to deal with people was completed they would either be paid or die.

The camp had sent out two scouts and they returned and bringing the sun with them. Dismounting their horses, they brought the news.

"We have ten at Lornruk all crew members not a soldier among them and just over that maybe more on the ship mostly crew"

Picking up his mace Cleaver stood as Marden and Casimir presented the plan to the group.

"Vernossiel I need you and your elven swords and arrow to take out Lornruk, there is an old harpy ground that you could use as vantage point if needed but take this" passing her a small pouch of coin as Vernossiel mounted her travel wagon with the other elven fighters.

"We should be there by the end of the day hold the fort raise the bridge and stay vigilant"

"Yes dwarf"

Slapping the reins on the horse they left the woods on the way to Lornruk.

"Casimir, Cleaver you take the dwarven shield unit and take the ship then sail it to Lornruk and load the rest of crew from there. No one will bother an Orders dock it near St Gregory bridge that way you can get to the bath house quicker and us the tunnels"

"And what about you witcher"

"I still have my contract to keep I will take the elves to your hunter contact and make sure the skelligans get back to their ship in Novigrad I owe them that much at least ill meet you at the bath house in a days' time."

"Aye, tell him ill need him at the bath house too after he has done with our elven friends"

Shaking hands and parting ways the dwarfs were on the warpath as marden took his contract to finishing line.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7: Strictly Business

Marden had reached the hunter just as the light of the sun was fading, looking as if he had hardly moved the camp was in the same place same dog and same red oak bow.

Driving the wagon, the elves kept a look out as the men from Skellige recovered in the back, the uneven ground of the north made getting rest difficult as the wagon dipped and bucked with the terrain.

Riding over the brow of the hill marden spotted the light house and the familiar smell of salt water hit his nose.

Giving pip a pat on her neck marden jumped of and gave her a few apples he would have to stock up soon. As the wagon ground to a stop the elves disembarked and the skelligans climbed out the back and began stretching their bodies.

"Ah greetings master wi…. Marden, I apologise"

"Greetings, forgive me but I don't recall ever asking your name and your companions name"

"I am Atel and this is Nikki, I see you have fulfilled your contract"

"Aye, as promised the elven troupe, and the skelligans. Now if you don't mind the rest of my money please"

"Of course."

Standing from his makeshift barrel stool, he turned it over handing the witcher the rest of his payment, going back to his stool Atel picked up his bow and strapped his quiver to his back leaving the bow in hand, giving his leg a heavy pat Nikki rose from her place by the fire to her master's side.

"Cleaver says he wants you at the bath house today"

"I will be there, oh witcher per chance did you manage to find out who informed the witch hunters of the troupes were about"

"No friend sorry I didn't I actually had to pull cleaver off a knight who refused to answer that question"

"I see."

Strapping an arrow to his bow the Atel pointed it towards the elves, a deep growl and snarl came from Nikki as she readied herself to pounce.

"Oh, hey easy what are doing Atel"

"This doesn't concern you witcher take the skelligans and your coin and get out of here"

The three elves stood not knowing what to do, panicked eyes fillited from the hunters bow to the witcher to the skeillgers and each other.

Still standing there Marden was watching intently as the tension grew until finally Atel spoke.

"Cleaver knows that one of you is responsible for ratting, step forward and I will tell the scoia'tael, who are on the way to show mercy."

None of them moved.

"Fine" releasing the arrow it found its target in one of the male elves leg, placing another arrow on the bow Atel aimed at the group again.

"ok, ok, ok it was me" holding her hands up the slender elf stepped forward,

"Eveline! why?" trying to stop the bleeding of his leg the elf looked up in shock

"Yes, Eveline why" Atel relaxed his draw on the bow

"They have been onto to me since the botched heist in Novigrad, threatened to kill me and worse if I didn't give them information"

"Information on who and why let them capture you"

"Cleaver and it was part of the deal they were to fake my arrest then release me, I swear I never herd of what was happening at crane cape until yesterday"

"Sure you did, you just didn't want to end up there" drawing back on his bow Atel aimed for Eveline,

Dropping to her knees Eveline begged, preferring judgment from the scoia'tael than to be killed on the spot,

"Please let me explain to the unit surely, they'll have mercy, they"

Marden didn't see it leave he'd been focusing too much on the wounded elf as the other member of the troupe tried to help get the arrow out of his leg, he didn't see it but he heard it his witcher sense would never mistake that sound, the whistling of the arrow as it flew met with the piercing of flesh and the unmistakable sound of a dead body hitting the floor.

Through the heart, a quick death. Walking towards her lifeless body Atel closed her eyes, dipping his finger in her blood he drew the word an'givare across her forehead marking her as a spy.

"Take her to the woods the rest of the unit will pick you two up, witcher get out of here"

He wanted to ask why, what and many other questions, then he began to think after nearly dying for them someone who could easily sell out their race on a fantasy wasn't worth it.

Taking pip by the reins as he walked to the portside gate with the skelligans.

They made the whole way to the dock in silence until they came upon the skelligans man o war ship, so huge it cast a shadow over the pier. Upon the side of the ship Marden spied the name, the sparrow hawk.

Approaching the ramp of the ship a head popped up over the side, Marden saw the rest of the crew making busy but this crew member was sporting a particularly nasty looking black eye.

"Oh, thank Freya ye back was worried ti death"

"Ah, nothing ti worry about thanks ti the witcher"

"Marden! Ha, if he's as deadly with them swords as he is with his fist then no wonder you came back"

As he made his way down the ramp the burly skelligan men embraced each other.

"Ah mind me ribs you arse"

"Give over ye big girl the captain got some barrels of mead a waiting come on"

"Aye just a minute"

"Well don't blame me if it's all gone"

Turning to go back to his ship, all the other had followed their fellow crew member as the thought of fresh cold mead and a good meal filled their heads.

"You've my thanks and ever grateful gratitude witcher, we are sailing for Skellige next week if you want to come, well there is a spare cabin with your name on it"

"I just might take you up on that, favourable winds to you" clasping hands with the skelligan, Marden made way for the passiflora.

Walking through the doors of the passiflora the thick smell of perfume, food, wine and sex hit Mardens nose straight away. Scanning the room, he looked for her, she was nowhere to be seen, sitting down on the plush pillowed benches Marden waited.

Marquise serenity the Madame of the passiflora came down the stair case, navigating the drunk patrons as she made her way to Marden, sitting herself on thickly built witcher lap.

"Oh, my a witcher" wrapping her arms around her his neck she pulled herself into Mardens ear, "act natural"

"What pleasures of the passiflora do you seek cat eyes"

Taking marden by the hand she leads him through the bustling walls of the passiflora to where the secret door of their room was, pulling the candle revealing the stair case they went up the stairs to the private room.

"What the hell is going, where is Amrynn?"

"Keep your voice down witcher!"

"Then tell me!?"

Walking around the room checking every nook making sure they were truly, something had happened the Madame wasn't nearly this suspicious regularly.

"Twas about two days past when you left, the place got turned over by witch hunters and Redanian guards."

Fighting back the tears that welled in her eyes she continued.

"They dragged all the girls out, threatened to burn them at the stake if we didn't hand over Amrynn, said nonhumans need to be eradicated from the city in all areas."

"What, I…. where did they take her!?, this doesn't make sense witch hunters never bothered the passiflora before"

"There something else."

"What"

"They wanted information on you, they know you killed them witch hunters"

"How I don't get it I…... the bookmaker ploughing hell" rage swelled within marden as he began pacing not knowing if to smash the room to pieces or kill everyone in the passiflora.

"Where did they take her?"

"I don't know they didn't kill her though, hasn't been one of them in months"

"Shit, the cape"

"What? hey where are you going"

Just before Marden reached the top of the stairs he felt a hand pull on his arm.

"I have to go, stay safe"

Planting a kiss on her forehead, Marden pulled up his hood, moving through the streets to the bath house.

* * *

Two years ago, Novigrad saw the worst winter it had seen in decades, thick blankets of snow covered the roofs of the buildings and the streets were awash with ice and thick snow. The people of the free city had barricaded themselves in the houses and pubs staying anywhere that was warm, as the whole city seemed to stand still.

Marden had stop wintering at the keep of his school when he left the path, preferring instead to spend it in Novigrad in the passiflora with Amrynn. Locking themselves away until the snow melted they felt like the only people on the continent.

The rolling thick flakes of the snow fell across the glass stacking up against the window, putting more logs on the fire Marden laid between Amrynn's legs laying his head on her stomach and staring into the dancing flames as she ran her hands through his short hair and gently running her fingers over his shoulders and back.

Pushing himself up on his elbows Marden stared into her eyes before they shared another kiss

"You should quit this you know"

The dancing light of the fire cast shadows on her body as she ran her hands down his chest, cradling his head Amrynn sat up the witcher between her legs, the snow dust whipped of the glass as a gust of wind blew through the empty streets. The heat of the passiflora room kept the cold at bay.

"And you witcher, need to stop"

Planting another kiss on his lips she stood up from the scattered pelts and hides that littered the stone ground, walking to the dresser table pulling of a bunch of grapes and a jug of mulled wine.

Rolling on his back Marden pulled a pelt over his waist as he stared into the fire, exhaling a deep breath.

"All I'm saying is there is more places in the world than the Novigrad"

Kneeling on the thick pelts pouring a cup of wine for her witcher she laid next to him tracing the scars on his chest.

"Places like Ofir," she hummed in his ear as she took a sip of the warm spiced wine.

"Anywhere you want elaine"

"Hmm I love when you speak elder" the slender elf purred as she pulled back his pelt covering, straddling him placing her hands on his torso she leant down her blonde hair tickling his skin, nose to nose they laid in front of the fire. Moving her hand down his body she leaned to into his lips.

"A'baeth me Vatt'ghern"

Pressing their lips together they felt the world pass by, as the wisps of snow and wind sailed through the air and out to the open sea.

* * *

Throwing the doors of the bath house open Marden searched for Cleaver, sat by the side of the hot tub Cleaver and Casimir were sharing a new strand of grape flavoured tobacco the clouds of the smoke hung in the thick steam.

Bursting in through door the two dwarfs looked to the witcher who was mumbling to himself and pacing in a circle.

"Witcher come share the bath ill have happen bring up more tobacco and vodka"

"Fuck your vodka Cleaver, we need to leave"

"Mardy what's wrong"

"The bastards they …" marden left the baths and went out of the front door to the docked ship, followed by Casimir.

Unwrapping the sails on the ship Marden was met by men in order uniform, drawing his knifes he prepared for combat.

"OI, hey Mardy don't they're not order knights"

Marden eyes burned as he scanned the knights, no knights would look that scared when confronted by a witcher.

"Marden, hey put the knifes away laddie"

Casimir was in front of marden gently pushing his hand to his belt.

"They'll be plenty of time of time for bloodshed"

"And vengeance"

"Aye that too"

Sheathing his knifes Marden stormed up to the helm of the ship, placing his hands on the thick wood leaning forward letting out a heavy sigh,

"Whose idea was it to dress the crew up in order uniform?"

"Ah that would be Vernossiel, she changed her mind"

"What how"

"Thank cleaver, he made her an offer she couldn't refuse, who did they take Mardy?"

"Amrynn, she's a friend"

"Never seen ye get that worked up over a friend"

"Cas, please don't start this again"

"After this is over mardy, you're not getting out of this"

Staring out onto the city from the deck of the ship Cleaver and Atel came into view. They seemed to be in a deep discussion, until it dawned on marden that he hadn't seen or heard any of the dwarves or elves. Later he would find out they were below deck to keep a low profile until the set sail out of the view of Novigrad.

"Witcher you've already met Atel he will be our eyes in the crow's nest with Vernossiel"

"So, what's the plan"

"Atel and Vernossiel will be our eyes they will take out the man in the light house, the elven archers will climb the rigging and provide covering fire from the heights of the ship when we've docked. The crew in the order uniforms will take me, you and Casimir and a few elven swordsmen off the ship in handcuffs with our confiscated weapons, then when we get through the gate we shall attack with the elves and our dwarven shields. If the archers do their job we should be looking at minimal casualties"

"Sounds simple, let's go"

The thick cover of night fell over Novigrad, the ship raised it anchor as it pulled away from the dock. Nobody had asked any questions about their brief stop there dare not the order operated with practical immunity to everything that bound the rest of the populace.

Reaching a few miles out of Novigrad waters and no longer in the prying eyes of the public, the elves and dwarves gathered on the deck. Swords and axes were oiled and sharpened, quivers were packed with arrows, the elven archer units climbed the rigging whilst the dwarfs banged there shields on their spears testing there worth.

"Right you all know your job we'll be on the work prison in about ten minutes"

High above in the crow's nest Atel and Vernossiel were preparing their bows and rope.

"Are they elk tipped arrows? I've always wanted some of them"

"Hard to find in Novigrad though, you ever split an arrow in the bullseye?"

"I did it once was probably a fluke."

"Ok dh'oine two things, one shut up and two don't get me killed got that"

"Oh sure, was just making conversation"

Approaching the island, the sight of the work prison came into view natural rock curved around one side of the island making it totally impassable flanked on one side by the wall and the lighthouse on the other.

The rock on the island was mined and quarried for its natural resources, in a middle of the wall was a thick barred dimeritium and iron gate the only way in and out.

Going through the gate it gave way to a large open space with a full size dimeritium, iron and silver hollow griffin stood over a deep fire pit.

The ground was littered with a few barracks sectioned off at either side of the grounds for the prisoners and non-humans with a separate barrack for the commander.

The grasslands that laid in the shadow of the wall and was used to farm the necessary ingredients that would later be pounded into fisstech and other narcotics.

Next to the great mines and quarry was the dead zone a piece of the prison grounds used specifically for punishment, hanging cages hung above fire pits not low enough to burn alive and not high enough to escape the heat, torture wheels where prisoners were spun as the witch hunter and guards threw knifes and shot bolts at them, At the back of the dead zone three sets of wooden post stood chains hanging from them.

Approaching the island, the ship let down its anchor, preparing for the attack Marden removed his swords and shoulder knives he wasn't comfortable but it had to be believable.

Redanian guards approached the ship just as some of the order knights on deck started to cart of prisoners.

"Who goes there"

"Order of the flaming rose, got some prisoners for the mines"

Pushing the witcher, the dwarfs and elves down the ramp the order escorted the prisoners to the Redanian guards.

"Ah finally a witcher, all their weapons will fetch a hefty price on the market"

Drawing back his red oak bow Atel let loose his arrow through the neck of the patrol guards above on the light house, firing a grappling line to the edge of the railing Vernossiel slung her sword over the rope, zip lining to the tower.

Managing to put out the flame Vernossiel was followed over by a hand full of swordsmen, firing from the high point of the ship with expert marksmanship the elves and the hunter rid the walls of their Redanian infestation.

Moving through the shadows Vernossiel and her swords silenced any straggles on the wall and whoever else they encountered. Rising from the hull of the ship the rest of the elven swords readied themselves along with the dwarven shield warriors.

Atel descended from the crow's nest as some of the archers ziplined across and stayed put on the ship.

"They are at the gate are we ready?"

Met with silent ayes the dwarfs and elves jumped of the ship running along the pier they took out the few guards that followed the orders escort.

Strapping his sword to his back marden drew his Dan Dao, Casimir inspected his axe whilst cleaver gave his mace a few test turns.

"Right let's go"


	8. Chapter 8

_**Author note: not sure if this need's to be said or not but better safe than sorry, mature theme follow in this chapter.**_

* * *

Chapter 8: The Evil That Men Do

Bursting through the iron gate of the work prison the dwarven shield warriors ran past the brazing griffin towards the oncoming attack of Redanian guards, slamming there shields in the ground next to each other the protruding spears waited the Redanian's as the second line filled the gaps and the elven swordsmen waited behind the dwarven phalanx.

"Caed Dhu Tirth!"

"Aen seidhe, Aen seidhe!"

Marden, Casimir, Cleaver and Vernossiel with her group swept the barracks, they freed all the prisoners and killed any remaining guards or witch hunters.

Atel and the archers took up position on the walls providing covering fire to the dwarfs and elven swords as the prisoners escaped to the awaiting crew men.

The thinning number of the small Redanian force fell pitifully on the advancing dwarven phalanx pushing the guards into the mine of the quarry they detonated the bombs lining the mine shaft burying them alive.

Regrouping with the smaller task force they burned the work fields and the barracks all trace of the evil blood and fear that surrounded the island, that's when they came into view.

In the torture grounds humans and non-humans littered the outskirts their mutilated bodies were burnt and left with their mouths still open mouthing the screams that accompanied there last moments.

Elven women where laird on the torture wheels some with bolts through their guts others clutching the last breaths of life they had, but she wasn't there they weren't there not in the cages or the wheels they weren't there.

Spotting the wooden posts at the back of the grounds there they were suspended by the chains there they hung arms outstretched their heads dipped.

"Cut down the chain now"

Releasing the chains, they watched as the two bodies of the eleven women descended from the tops of the posts.

Tilting the blonde headed one back Marden was met with closed eyes of a human woman passing her to swordsman the barely conscious woman was carted to the ship.

Casimir removed the shackles of Inga's wrist her left leg was broken her body was battered and bruised both her hands where broken, cradling her limp frame in his arms Casimir gently gave her a shake.

"Ah shit lass, open ye eyes come on now,"

Casimir sat brushing her short hair out of her eyes and wiping away some of the dirt on her face.

"Inga, wake up dammit"

"Pass me some water quickly" sheathing his sword Marden took the cup and gently poured it into Inga's mouth.

"What good is…."

"Shhh wait"

Coughing up the water Inga stirred in the arms of Casimir

"Easy now lass, I've got you"

"C…cas? Mm..mardy? what"

"Hush now Inga everything is alright"

Placing his hand on Casimir shoulder he let a small smile form on his face before he looked back at his unconscious friend.

"Get her back to the ship cas"

Putting Inga on the medical stretcher, they left for the ship all but Marden.

Why wasn't she here where did they put her. Scanning the grounds Marden looked for the only place not on fire then he saw it, the sizeable barrack of the commander of the prison, Marden walked up to the barrack door that was locked.

Kicking the door off its hinges he was met with nothing but darkness, darkness everywhere only a small line of light could be seen coming from a room at the top of the stairs, drawing his knifes he made his way up the stairs in the pitch black.

The door slightly a jar, little streaks of candle light escaped through the open crack and he could hear distinct muffling of voices, breaking through the silence he addressed the thick door.

"Amrynn you there?"

Placing a hand on the door Marden gently pushed the door open he could hear four heart beats through the wall.

"Amrynn?"

"Marden it's a traaa…"

Forcing the door wide open splinters forced there way on the air as the door was flung back against the wall, that's when he saw one of the witch hunter drive the hot poker through her stomach.

"Amrynn!"

Throwing the two knifes at the guards Marden was left with the witch hunter commander, charging at the witcher sword in hand the commander was knocked back by the force of Aard, smashing his head on the stone wall behind him he was left their unconscious,

Frantically untying her rope bonds Marden tried to pull her to her feet, maybe he could get her to one of the healers, maybe they could help, she could still survive…. maybe.

Falling to her knees Amrynn collapsed next to the fire, cradling her in his arms he saw her beaten face and body. Brushing her hair back over her pointed ear that she showed so well where not there, the witch hunters had cut of the tips and burnt the wounds to stop the bleeding.

"Come on, you got to stay with me we have healers by the ship we can"

"Its…. it's useless Marden, I'm done for"

"Don't talk like that we can still"

"Always the stubborn witcher" gripping hold of tight body armour pulling herself up with the last strength she had, she brought her hand to his face as he gripped hers, "that's why I love you"

Holding her head as he felt the life leave her. Rocking back and forth holding her in his arms he prayed to anything that would listen desperate to hear her heart beat again, pressing his head against hers he closed his eyes as a small tear rolled down his cheek. Choking through the lump in his throat he tilted her head towards him.

"Amrynn don't leave"

"We can go anywhere"

"Anywhere"

"Please comeback"

"Anywhere"

"Amrynn"

"Elaine"

"…I... I love you"

Gently closing her eyes Marden sat there holding her, staring into the fire.

Against their better judgment maybe they had gotten attached no matter how much they lied to themselves love had found them, the lost souls craving longing and affection but in the end getting only pain.

Sitting there on the hard stone floor he recalled all the times they spent together, the jealousy he felt when she was with others, the feeling of longing for her touch whenever he left the city. All the times they joked about moving away together what they would do, the places they could see the things they could do. They all felt like an unfinished dream, as he sat there his eyes burning into the fire he wanted it back, he wanted the time back, he wanted her back.

Gently he rocked her, the dark abyss of grief engulfing him making him forget they weren't alone, the movement of the commander coming back to consciousness pulled Marden from his darkness.

Picking the commander up by the neck he threw him through the open door into the darkness of the hallway, standing over the man who had orchestrated the evil on the island Marden sent forceful kicks into his ribs.

Gripping him by the neck he picked him up tossing him down the hard stone stairs cracking his bones on impact as he rolled through the door and onto the courtyard, dragging him by the back of his neck collar across the ground he saw Cleaver and Casimir waiting by the gate.

Approaching the giant brazing griffin that lay before the gate Marden cast Igni sparking the dead wood to life, the burning of the fire pit underneath the metallic beast started to turn it to a hot yellow. Opening the latch on its side Marden dragged the commander closer.

"No! please, witcher I beg you no!"

"Beg that's right beg you piece of shit, beg like she did like they all did!"

Drawing his sword from his back he placed the tip of the cold steel of the blade against his neck.

Sheathing his blade Marden dragged the commander to his feet,

"I knew you freaks had morals, your codes is against killing unarmed men"

The burning fire had begun turning the metal white hot. Brushing of the dirt on his shoulders Marden stood smiling at the commander his hands gently placed on his shoulders.

Staring into the commanders eyes Marden smile began to slip away as fury crept back into his eyes, feeling the crushing grip began to tighten on his shoulders, the commander tried to fight the overwhelming pressure that was forcing down into ashy ground.

Looking on at the sight in front of them Cleaver and Casimir were joined by Atel and Vernossiel, the injured had been placed on the ship and the rest of the crew and the soldiers had boarded. They watched in silence as the commander's collar bones began to crack and snap as Marden forced his vice like grip through the bone.

Moving his hands around his neck he pulled the commander up to eye level

"I'm not killing a man"

Throwing the commander in the hollow beast Marden locked the latch, snapping off the handle and cast quen over the lock to make it extra tight. Walking towards the gate Marden stopped before the group.

"Vernossiel, I…. I need you to send a medical unit to the commander's barracks, there's a" clearing his throat with a cough Marden motioned to the barrack, "she deserves a proper send-off"

Not saying anything Vernossiel and Atel set off towards the barracks with a stretcher, throwing the coin pouch he made from the contract back to Cleaver.

"Cleaver, the book maker from the fight night when you approached me. He's" clearing his throat again "he's responsible"

"Ah, I know the guy consider it done" throwing the coin pouch back to him "call it a favour"

Giving a nod Marden set of to the ship the hollow screeches of the griffin echoed through the empty ground and rung in the stillness off the night.

* * *

One week had passed since operation burning eagle the name given to the mission by Cleaver, Marden had set up a room at the portside inn of the golden sturgeon, barrels of ale and the portside supply of fisstech were his comfort.

The bright light of the port was blocked from the room by a sheet that was pinned to the wall by two knives.

That was all he had the dwarf collector Caesar Bilzen in Novigrad bought everything the steel Dan Dao his silver sword, and his body armour the metal guards off his boots, the knives of his shoulder and boot knife, even pip was gone.

The only thing he owned were the knives he crafted in the school of the viper that he kept on his hips, his medallion and his regular basic armour.

Hiding In the darkness of the room Marden was laid on the bed, the pelts and sheets were thrown, his chainmail, gambeson and tunic lay crumpled at the end of the bed, all over the room bottles of smashed wine and powdered fisstech littered the ground and stained the walls with the wine.

A hard-callous hand smashed on door, dragging Marden from his lethargy.

"Fuck off, I Paid you last week"

Pushing the door open the scraping of broken glass on the wooden floor grated through his ears, throwing his legs over the edge of the bed he shot up reaching for his mug. Opening the tap on the barrel the warm liquid filled the container and overflew onto the mess covered floor.

"I don't remember ye paying me a copper"

Reaching for his pipe Marden stuffed it with the mix of powdered fisstech and tobacco, fumbling the edge of the pipe in his mouth he lazily moved his hand to cast Igni.

"Mardy, you need to snap out of it"

Pulling in a massive breath of the opiate mixture he let the pipe drop from his hand as he reached for his mug, downing the whole contents in one gulp.

"She wouldn't want you to be like this mate"

Bolting up from his bed and launching his mug in to the wall Marden stared down at the dwarf.

"What would you know what she wanted! She loved me! Me and I-!"

Rushing over to the bucket in the corner Marden felt the bile and acid of his stomach burn through his throat. Stabilizing himself on his shaky arms he wretched again bringing up brown and red bile, forcing his arms up he worked his way to the dresser table and stool.

"Aye lad I know, but this is no life for you"

Taking a razor blade from the bowl that the maids had left out for him to shave Marden cut the fisstech on his dresser table into lines, grabbing his hollow reed tube he lined up the tube with his nose and fisstech.

"Marden! For fuck sake! Gods know why I even bother" pulling open the door Casimir sent shards of broken glass skipping along the floor "oh and Inga is awake and asking about you not that you give a shit" slamming the door Casimir walked off through the busy tavern into the busy city disappearing into the crowd.

Lining up the reed tube with the last line of fisstech Marden fell backwards of his stool, laying there on the sick covered and sticky floor his face presses against the wet glass he could hear her, her screams growing quieter the smell of lavender growing.

There he could see her still alive laying there by the fire as the thick snow settled against the glass, the roaring fire casting shadows on her. Then the bruises came back, her ears missing their tips, her lifeless body limp in his arms.

Packing his pipe again with the mixture Marden laid back on the bed, deep heavy breaths pushed him into unconsciousness.

Pulling the strings of his coin pouch open Marden, steadily tried to focus and the amount he had left, looking through one-eye, he focused on the golden chunks of coin, five hundred crowns are all that remained.

A small pitter patter of knocks pulled Mardens gaze.

"Hmm?"

Pushing open the door a slender elf figured shimmed her way through the crack.

"Mardy? You….. come on"

Pulling the witchers knives from the wall the sheet fell casting the burning light of day through the glass and onto the chaos of the room.

"Cleaver wants to talk, you've been in here for three weeks now"

Lifting one of his arms over her shoulders she supported him as they made the way to Cleaver, the cold fresh air of the docks smashed into his face and the light of the sun burned his skin.

"I'm sorry Inga, maybe if I'd have stayed in Ofir none of this would've never happened"

Setting down the heavy witcher on a bench just by the main square Inga placed the knives back on his hips.

"Ofir was a long time ago" cupping his chin in her hand Inga pulled his gaze, "don't let Casimir get to you, everything happens for a reason" his eyes had dropped to the floor again forcing his head up again she looked into his sorrow filled amber eyes, "all we can is move forward witcher, if I hadn't have met Casimir I would have never had seen Ofir and had them adventures, and you two wouldn't have saved me. Now come on Cleaver won't wait forever"

Placing a kiss on his head Inga pulled marden to his feet as they carried on towards his office, Cleaver had doubled his henchdwarf presence at all his business but mostly his office he wasn't taking any chances.

Sitting opposite the mob boss Marden eyed the strong bottle of Mahakam spirit that stood on the table, yearning for a few drops as the cold beads of sweat began to form on his head.

"Did you hear what I said witcher?"

"Hmm, what?"

"The bookmaker won't be taking any more bets"

"Ah, right, yeh are you going to drink that?"

Standing back from his desk Cleaver took the bottle and poured out a glass, pushing the cork back down into the neck of the bottle he watched as the once witcher took it down like a shot.

"Another"

More and more drinks where poured from that bottle as Marden polished it off, Cleaver pushed the cork back in for the final time, walking behind the witcher.

Smashed glass flew over the desk in front of him, as the dwarf held onto the unbroken end.

"I oughta cut your worthless throat and leave you with the other junkies and addicts"

Turning over on his back feeling the crush of glass in his arm Marden stared up at the ceiling,

"Look at yourself witcher, what a waste poor Amrynn would be spinning in her grave"

"I'm going to kill you, dwarf sc-"

Trying to push himself up from his collapsed state Marden was met by the ball end of Cleavers mace to the side of his temple.

"Lads get in here!"

Immediately six henchdwarf filled the small office.

"Sir?"

"Take our witcher friend to one of the holding cells under the bath house"

"Aye sir"

"And use the dimeritium chains"

"Dimeritium sir?"

"Aye, this has to be done the hard way"

With the order given the henchdwarf threw the limp body of the witcher into the back of the wagon and took him to the bath house.

The cells under the bath house had at one point been used to store the valuables by count reuven, now the troll watches over the barrels of ale and stock for the bath house along with anything else the big two need to store their temporarily.

Using the dimeritium chains they clamped them on the wrist of Marden, stripping him of everything but his briefs as he knelt in the centre of the cell.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9: limbo

The hole that had been blasted through the wall under the bath house had been partially repaired, an iron gate had now replaced the bricks. Cleaver had seen the potential in the use of the underground tunnel network, the swearers of the city provided much need discretion perfect for smuggling.

Guards, witch hunters and city folk, drowners had killed plenty of both and that was the monsters they knew about, so the payment they received from the big two helped to turn a blind eye. Coin was good, more coin was even better.

Marden was chained up in a dark corner under the bath house stripped of everything but his briefs, the dimeritium shackles where strapped to his wrist and chained to the sides of the cage, suspending Marden's arms out at his side as he knelt in the centre.

Ice cold water had been thrown over him and the cage, the remnants of the water that lingered on the bars above slowly trickled down onto the witcher below, drip after drip fell intensifying on the back of Mardens head before running down his back evaporating.

Cleaver's hench dwarf where charged with watching him and pouring the ice water over him, Marden had been unconscious ever since Cleaver slammed his mace into his temple.

* * *

Marden and Halvar were sparring in the courtyard, the dry hot air of Ofir made the perfect climate for endurance training. The two witchers had been going at it for a few hours each trying to find a whole in the defence or attack, the sparring swords swung hit and missed as they raced through the air.

The dual blade work of the viper struck from every angle as the heavy powerful strikes of the bear pushed back. Blocking high and low Halvar pivoted on his rear foot, spinning he brought his sword vertically up through the gap that Marden had left. Smacking him under the chin, the force of the strike lifted him off the floor sending him crashing to the dusty ground.

"Urgh! whoreson."

Extending out a hand the towering bear witcher pulled his sparring partner to his feet.

"Where the hell did that come from?"

"Ha! Upward vertical strike, spent a few winters in Kaer Morhen. Vesimer that old wolf could run rings around me still"

Clutching his chin and standing from the ground Marden dusted himself off.

"We'll have to pay the wolves a visit sometime"

"Aye!"

* * *

Throwing another bucket of ice water over the semi-conscious witcher the hench dwarfs left to go and refill the buckets.

Time is all they had, fisstech addiction was a real danger to the populace. Witchers had an excellent internal system the changes the body went through during the trial of the grasses made poisoning them nearly impossible. However, the amount of the fisstech drug that Marden had took made even him struggle.

Ice water served its purposes, it kept the witcher awake and from overheating and causing lasting damage.

Inga and Casimir had both ventured down to their friend, they wanted to console him, help him to bring him back. All they did was watch, they watched their former friend, leader, warrior, witcher and everything in between slip further into his own mind as the drugs left his body.

A few mutters of inaudible words were all that passed his lips.

Dragging a wooden stool across the uneven stone floor Casimir sat as he uncorked a bottle of the house rice wine, pouring strong the clear liquid into his mug he leant forward staring at the witchers chained slumped body.

Taking a sip to clear his throat Casimir sat up, "Do ye remember Ofir, that shite sandbox of a place" crouching down trying to get a look at his friend face Casimir saw the faintest of nods.

Through the inaudible muttering Casimir managed to get a hold of the words "aye", after a month spent in darkness light looked as though it was creeping back into his mind.

Returning to his stool Casimir poured some more rice wine, "Aye well that sandbox, gave me some of the best memories of my life and the most coin"

The light clinking of chains were his only response, raising his head Marden looked at the seated dwarf, "R... r.. remember…Zerrikania?"

Finishing off his cup, Casimir leaned back running his hand across his beard searching for the memory deep in his mind.

"Asset recovery, was it? Or was it asset protection I forget"

"R..r…rrecovery" was the only reply Casimir had through the muttered slur,

* * *

The roaring waves of the sea rocked the boat, Casimir had just loosened his grip from the side after his intense vomiting. Wiping his mouth Casimir turned back towards the witchers.

"So Mardy what's the plan we dock in Zerrikania then?"

"Then we head north" pulling out the scroll from his pouch Marden scanned over its contents muttering the words to himself, "We head north to the village of dragon tail, huh of course it is"

"Aye, it'll probably have a statue too" standing from the steps of the ship deck Halvar inspected the contract, "Issa said that's is where the client will direct us to the assets"

Inspecting the scroll himself Casimir let out a sigh "Who put out the contract"

"Issa said it was a court ordered merchant"

The conversation of the two drowned out as Marden focused his hearing to a strange gurgle in the water,

"Shhh, shhh you hear that"

"SIRENS!" screams from the crow's nest informed the crew on deck who hurried for anything they could get their hands on,

Scanning the skies Marden reached for the hissing viper pommel of his silver sword.

Loading his crossbow Casimir took shelter behind the tied-up barrels that surrounded the mast, Halvar drew his silver broad axe, as the sirens dove down for their meal.

"Come on ye flying whores" loosing a bolt form his crossbow Halvar caught one in the wing as it plummeted towards the deck finishing her off with his silver axe.

Two throwing knives of the viper pierced the flying creature's wings, rolling under the monster's dive sparks of Igni flew from his hand scorching the monster sending her flying over the side of the deck and into the deep blue.

Tackling one of the crew to the deck the siren screamed as her claws pinned the crew member to the deck, rearing her head back letting out a blood curdling scream she sent her teeth into his flesh.

Reaching for his stash of bolts Casimir felt only air "Whoreson" jumping over the barrels Casimir ran for the shrieking monster, pulling the bowie knife from his belt Casimir ran the thick blade through her back as he tackled her of the deck hand.

"Get of me ye stinky-"

Casimir's words were dragged off into the air as another siren snatched him from the deck.

Trails of monster blood dripped across the deck and into the sea as the dwarf stabbed repeatedly into the sirens gut before eventually being dropped into the ocean.

Throwing a rope line over the edge of ship, the attack from the sky had subsided with the last of the sirens retreating to lick their wounds.

"Well Mardy would you look at that, a flying dwarf"

Bobbing around in the water Casimir reached for the rope wrapping it in fist.

"Aye, hilarious now pull me up"

Pulling their companion on to the deck, the two witchers stared at the soaking wet dwarf.

Bellows of laughter came from the burly witchers unable to keep a straight face.

* * *

Placing the empty bottle on the ground Casimir stood from his stool and stretched,

Patting the knife on his hip he gave out a nostalgic grin.

Dragging his head up from his slumped state Marden gave a brief smile before slipping back into unconsciousness.

"Feel better Mardy we still have work to do"

Returning to the surface of the bathhouse Casimir made his way to the door, pulling out his pipe and pouch of grape flavoured tobacco that had now become the house special.

Stuffing it into his pipe Casimir walked to the brazier and lit it, thick plumes of smoke drifted in front of his face and into the cold night air, the warmness of the summer nights were slowly being replaced by the biting breath of winter, looking up to the star's Casimir let out a deep sigh,

"You're smoking again" a voice came from the darkness.

"Holy fla… ye almost made mi heart stop!"

Taking the pipe Inga took a deep pull and let out the thick smoke,

"Hmm grape that's new"

Standing in the darkness of the door way to the bath house Inga and Casimir stood looking out on the dancing light of the torches and braziers on the empty streets,

Clearing his throat Casimir took back his pipe "He's talking" taking a pull from his pipe they made their way to the outside benches that lay in the shadows,

"Do ye want to talk about the"

"No, I've been through worse"

"Will ye be going back to the scoia'tael?"

"No, they were my past, I think my future lays somewhere else"

Taking in another deep pull from the pipe Inga passed it back and headed to the bathhouse.

Another bucket of water hit Marden, waking him from his limbo. Chains clinked as he tried to stand more movement was always a good sign,

"Right it's that time again"

"Don't die on us witcher"

Marden was alone again the familiar feeling of dripping water hit the back of his head and for the first time he looked up at his surroundings. His hearing made up for his blurred sight, in the distances of the underground the gurgles of drowners were growing louder fighting over whatever scraps have floated down the sewer tunnel, the light unmistakable sounds of a female elf pulled his attention from the groaning monsters.

"So, after everything we've been through, here we are."

Sitting on the stool that Casimir had left Inga sat throwing one leg over the other, staring through the iron gate that filled the hole, the tranquil sound of running water that held her concentration was broken when an approaching drowner ran against the gate.

Pulling her dagger from her belt Inga stood in anticipation, with the drowner hitting nothing but iron it quickly lost interested, returning the dagger to her belt Inga slumped herself back to the stool.

"I thought that was your job?"

Falling back into unconsciousness whatever sentence Marden was going to form was lost to the slur,

Sitting in silence Inga tried to find a memory that would hold his interest anything to pull him out of the abyss,

"You think you're alone but that's not true, look at the three of us, fate has pulled us back together" seeing no reaction from the witcher Inga stirred with frustration, "There nothing we can't get over together we faced tougher odds and come out fine" still no reaction, "Do you remember the yule celebrations we had in Ofir?"

Lifting his head with sorrow filled amber eyes Marden looked at her, taking a few long deep breaths Marden spoke slowly.

"Which one?"

"The Yule Halvar said he could dodge his own Kukri"

* * *

The nights of Ofir brought a chill on the wind, yule was a time for celebration and the only time of year where Marden and the rag tag group of mercenaries could let their guard down, the courtyard of the building that the group called home opened out to the stars of the night sky.

The group celebrated yule the only way they knew how, they did everything together they hunted the boar for the feast, travelled to the market for some last minuet ingredients to accompany the boar and the most important thing of all rolled out the barrels of mead and wine they kept in the cellars.

One full boar, five barrels of mead and six flagons of wine had been consumed along with other food and alcoholic shots, the group had been throwing knifes at the target board for the past hour.

Casimir laid on the floor of the courtyard his legs still hooked on the bench from where he had previously sat,

Stumbling on the line Inga was up next flipping her stiletto dagger in her hand, closing one eye to see better, she let out a little hiccup

"Nnnnnnnnow watchss thissss wi witchers" stumbling back Inga regained her footing "ey don't pppush you'llll get your ttturn" throwing the stiletto straight into the bullseye

"Yyyesss, yourrr goo Halllvarrr"

Dragging himself up from the warmth of the fire Issa slid gently off his lap from where she had been curled into his frame, letting out a small protest before laying on the warm blanket near the fire.

"Ayeee wereees me knifeee" blinking hard Halvar patted his belt "found iiiiiit" reaching for the handle Halvar gripped and threw in one single movement straight into the bullseye.

"Thiss is tooo easy one of you should stand there" her piercing blue eyes stood out even in the shadow, her head was rested on Marden's shoulder her witcher who had just passed out, his head lent forward on the dusty table top.

"Ayyye, whhhat do ye think mmmmardy"

"Aye ye shouldddd" spilling his mead Marden jumped from his sleep "goooo on Haalll"

"I'll throwww it" gliding up from the bench Ellie grabbed the curved knife and pushed Halvar with his back against the target board.

"Riiight illll throw and yooou dodge"

"Ayeee"

Pushing his back against the target block Halvar lent forward awaiting the blade.

Dropping to one knee Halvar looked down to his left shoulder,

"Youuu win Elliee"

* * *

As a small grin formed on his mouth, it had been nearly two months since Marden had been chained up and left to go cold turkey, after the loss he had suffered and selling all his possessions including pip, the full weight of his decisions fell on his shoulders.

Looking up towards Inga, Marden began pulling on the chains as he tried to stand up, "God damn fool, hm what happened to Halvar and Issa"

Shifting In her place on the stool Inga turned towards the iron gate, another two drowners had appeared

"We partied ways when they set sail for Zerrikania, kept in touch for a few years but they could be anywhere" glancing up at the gate Inga herd the hench dwarves returning to their post,

"I'll be waiting for you Marden, Amrynn wouldn't want you waste away in here", giving her a gentle nod Inga continued "if you want to honour her memory get back on the path, the world still need witchers, plus who knows what surprises fate has in store for us"

"What, us?"

"Yes us, the Dhu Coram aren't dead yet" flashing the witcher a smile Inga strolled back up to the bath house,


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10: Nightmares.

 _ **Authors note: So, this chapter wasn't supposed to be written but I thought it had to be covered, my apologies for it being a bit short.**_

* * *

Marden collapsed on to the floor as his shackles where removed from the cage above, the dimeritium clamps however remained on.

Kicking a small plate of bread and cheese next to the bed, the henchdwarves once again retreated up the tunnel, leaving the bucket of fresh water by the cell door.

Rolling to his hands and knees Marden crawled over to his bedroll, bringing his knees to his chest he starred through the bars of his cell.

"MARDEN!"

Fire erupted in his vision as the cape blew up in his mind, Amrynn's scream disappeared into the night.

Staring at the bread that was growing stale in the cold air, Marden spotted something out of the corner of his eye, stood against the side of his cell, her blonde hair shimmered in the dim light, her face and body had been battered and bruised just as he had found her. Turning on his side in an effort to stand, her form shifted into a wraith and flew towards him.

"YOU TOOK TOO LONG"

Throwing the sheet up over his face Marden turned towards the wall feeling the form of someone next to him he opened his eyes.

Blowing the cloud of smoke from his pipe Vetek stared at the young witcher, pulling in another draw of the mint tobacco before blowing it into Marden face

"Well I told you that you'd die on the path, what a disappointing end" pulling on the pipe once more "You sweat that crap out of your system, because if I come back and it's still here "turning to look at Marden his eyes now crackling with lighting "you'll never see the path again".

Throwing the sheet off him and screaming into the blackness, Marden crawled to the bucket the henchdwarves left out, throwing up the black bile he collapsed back into the cage. More unrest followed, Marden drifted in and out of awareness unsure if what he was seeing where illusions or real. Casimir and Inga had retreated from there normal visiting, Cleaver said it had to be painful and he was not wrong.

Hearing the slam of the door and the lock of the bolt, Marden didn't move from facing the wall. Another slam, followed by another and another each slam growing louder in intensity. Turning towards the cell door Marden saw the unmistakable hulking mass of the bear witcher.

Halvar face was gaunt and pale, places where muscle and flesh were supposed to be were covered in maggots and flies as his reanimated corpse banged his hammer against the door of the cell.

The crack the Halvar neck made as it straightened up to look at the form across from him, sent a sickening shiver down Mardens spine.

The veins in Marden's head and neck strained as his face grew red from the screaming pushing himself away from the apparition, refusing to believe his, Halvar stepped forward dragging his hammer.

"Did you miss me brother, the Dhu Coram, right? Brother's in arms right!" picking up the pace and his hammer Halvar charged towards Marden, covering his face Halvar's hammer disappeared into sand.

Clenching his jaw Marden grabbed his chest pulling away his blood covered hand and feeling the blood pour from his scars, Marden rolled onto his side looking over the scars on his body as they erupted with blood as if freshly formed.

Scrambling to his feet while his legs still worked he screamed into the darkness, turning to the cell door, Marden saw the faint outline of a shapeless figure.

Marden was clasping his silver sword prepared for what was to jump out of the shadows, the deep cuts across his chest bled heavily the swallow potion was working but not fast enough, seeing the figure dart from his peripheral vision, Marden felt the emptiness in his hand after his body was forced to the ground and his silver sword flew into the darkness. Rolling to his feet and Instinctively switching to his blades on his waist.

"Is that how we are playing? Alright come the fuck on!"

Bearing her teeth, the Bruxa charged for the armed witcher. Knocking him back hard into the mast of the ship, Marden was surrounded by the crew of drowners. Placing its long dead finger on the witchers neck Marden felt its nail drag across the side of it, frozen in place he could only watch as his lifeless body plunged into the icy water.

Bolting up right from his bed Marden inhaled deeply and could feel the sweat pouring from him, reaching his hand to his neck Marden felt for the scar, nothing was there. Crawling over to the bucket of water Marden saw his reflection staring back at him the matts of stuck hair, his stubbly beard and his deep amber cat like eyes were even more pronounced with the dark circles forming around them.

Dunking his head into the freezing water, pushing his hair out of his face Marden let the water settle blinking at his reflection he noticed a change, his amber eyes burned a deep yellow as the water boiled into blood.

Bursting through the water's surface, Marden's reflection grasped its hands around his own neck, fighting the grip weakly as the reflection pulled itself closer to him.

"Look at you, you're weak, just like your father, just like your mother, just like all the witchers from the school of the viper that lay dead. You have no future no purpose you are nothing!".

Choking back his reply Marden eyes rolled back into his head.

"Such a pity"

* * *

"I'm telling you that's how it happened"

"Oh yeh, and I a fought a golden dragon in a cloud city"

"What have I told you about smoking that halfling crap"

"Letho, I bet you the fortune of Kovir that story is a lie"

"Believe what you want Kolgrim, I'm telling you how it happened"

Letho and Kolgrim where arguing over the details of a certain story, not much mattered however after Vetek and Ivar rolled out their home brew. Serrit and Auckes were sat in front of the fire deep into their fifth round of gwent, whilst the other viper witchers where playing ever other assortment of knife games known to man, a favourite past time of the school. Marden was sat opposite the Dwarven blacksmith Orba and engaged in an arm wrestle.

"Ye getting tired laddie?"

"Not on your life old man"

Slamming down the barrels of their home brew, both witcher and dwarf lost interest. A louder slam hit the table, then another.

Waking to find himself in the cold dark, on his bed, Cleavers henchdwarves where moving the effects into position for the annual prize fighting tournament. Benches where stacked and ready to be placed in the correct position while and the straw was being thatched together for seating, and flooring.

Not caring a wit for the witcher nursing a fisstech recovery.

Being awake Marden busied himself with eating the stale bread and cheese that had once again been dropped by his bed, this time accompanied by a warm mug of grape juice and fresh water.

Finishing his meal, Marden sat his back against the wall as his thoughts drifted off into his illusions he had experienced. Idly watching the dwarves work he sipped down the warm grape juice before laying back on the bed, Marden closed his eyes more rest was needed.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11: Sewers.

Sitting up in the darkness Marden was alone, the effects of his abuse where at there tail end and all that remained was soreness. Hearing the rushing water and throwing the sheet off him Marden wandered to the bucket in the far corner of the cell. Silence accompanied his thoughts, and the sound of water accompanied his own, staring through the bars Marden heard the air being pushed out of his bed.

"Amrynn?" his voice was a whisper as he saw her there perched upon the bed, looking as she looked the night he spent with her, walking towards the apparition a cloud of lavender drifted over the air. As he grew closer the apparition slowly faded as she looked at him one last. Sitting down on the bed, Marden buried his face in the pillow facing the wall and pulling the sheet up, he drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

His time spent in that damp, dark foul-smelling cell hadn't change Marden much say for his hair, once it was short and close cut was now long and matted to his neck, face and head, his clean-shaven face was now sporting a stubbly beard. Marden muscles were sore and weak having not used them in so long, they still retained much of their size however, thanks to the witcher mutations.

Hearing the heavy steps of henchdwarves down the tunnel they came into view, more supplies for the treasured fight night. Twisting his arms Marden noticed the dimeritium wrist clamps that bound him to the chains of the iron cage where still attached.

Standing to get a view of the dwarves he could only spot seven it had sounded like less. however, it had been months since he was truly in the room.

Once again, the drowners had started to stir the smell of dying witcher and no guard to see them off had invited their deathly presence.

"Well well, look who come back to the world of the living", reaching for his keys, the dwarf made his way to the cell door "the boss wants a word"

Trying to claw through the gate the drowners reached for the dwarf, "you're next ye ugly blue fucker" throwing a lump of sewer crap through the gate was the drowners only response.

"Screw this, everyone out the way!"

"I wouldn't do that" the stern warning from the witcher met eyes with an uncaring dwarf.

Pushing his way through the other dwarves and drawing his mace the commandeering dwarf unlocked the gate.

Bursting through the half-opened gate the few dwarves clashed with the drowned dead, screams, shouts, curses and snarls erupted the fighting broke out.

More drowners rose from the murky sewer waters as the dwarves were getting pushed back.

Running towards his cell door Marden cast Igni to the lock. Hissing and popping of his smoke tipped fingers were all that followed.

"Dimeritium, shit"

Four of the dwarves lay dead as more drowners poured through the gate, the cold stone floor ran slick with the mix of blood.

Shoulder slamming the gate Marden, called out through tunnel under the bath house. More dwarves fell, only one dwarf stood standing.

Kicking the iron lock of the cage Marden flew out of his cell and into the fray.

Picking up a hatchet he charged into the drowners, the steel weapon was not as effective as he would like but the tenacity of his attacks made them fall.

One by one the drowners came into the path of his hatchet and one by one they fell, burying it deep into one of the monster's skull. Unable to pull out the axe, the drowners body fell lifeless to the floor. One punch levelled the advancing monster, throwing another punch his fist was met by the accompanying sound of a crack in the drowners neck.

The months spent in confinement and the toll the substance abuse took on his body had started to show, fatigue had started its slow fight on Marden,

Jumping towards the witcher the drowner sunk its teeth into the shoulder of its victim, slamming the monster against the wall Marden released the lifeless corpse, clinging to his shoulder he felt the blood stream down his arm.

Looking through the gate he could see more drowners rising from the watery depths of the sewer, the final dwarf of the group laid injured next to the cage and could do nothing on to advancing creatures. picking up a mace he readied himself the fury building in his eyes.

Scrambling over the corpses of the fallen drowners and dwarves the next drowner readied its self to fight, jumping towards the witcher its lifeless body fell sporting a stiletto dagger in the skull.

Running towards the horde Inga and Casimir collided with swarm of monsters. Witcher, elf and dwarf pushed back the slimy horde managing to shut and barre the gate.

"Urgh! drowner blood on my favourite knife, that will take forever to get the smell out"

Pulling her stiletto from the dead drowners skull Inga wiped the blade down before returning it to her belt.

"Inga"

"Well it is true it smells like rotting fish"

"Inga"

"Your right rotting fish smells better"

"Inga!"

"What?"

"Get me out of these damn shackles"

* * *

Leaving the tunnels under the bath house Marden was met by happen, Casimir and Inga made their way to the doctor with the surviving.

"Greetings master witcher, master cleaver regrets that he can't meet you personally prior business arrangements demand his attention. However, I would like to disclose that the events in the tunnel did not go unnoticed."

"Well I just did what anyone would do"

"Hmm, master cleaver would also like you to know that due to the unfortunate events that transpired within the city that it might be in your best interest to leave Novigrad for a time"

"I'm sure I can take care of myself"

"I don't think you understand master witcher, you have no choice in the matter, passage has been booked on a ship for three days' time. Ah one more thing" presenting his knifes and a fresh pair of clothes to the witcher happen smiled "master cleaver took a fancy to these blades but after you sold everything else he thought it in poor taste to face the world unarmed"

Through the streets and down the crooked paths, between shambling house's and mud-covered paths Marden stopped, a dark stain oak door behind crippled Kate's, Mardens was at the safe house.

"Where did I leave that key"

Shifting through the loose bricks he spotted the iron key pushed in the dirt.

"Right where I left you"

Pushing open the door Marden stepped into the cold room, taking in the stillness of the air he hadn't been in the safe house for some time. Lighting the small cove fire, he took a seat on a stool removing his shirt to inspect his wound as the fire crackled away.

"Another scar damn drowners"

Preparing his small cauldron and ingredients Marden boiled the contents brewing swallow, taking some antiseptic herb from the top counter he notices a few missing ingredients.

"Strange"

Looking around the empty room only the small cove fire cast light into the room the staircase was still hidden in the darkness.

Pouring the contents of swallow into his glass flask he sat down and pushed the ground herb into the deep puncture wounds, mindlessly cleaning his wound something that has been done countless times Mardens consciousness drifted away.

The sun was setting on the city of Novigrad the bustle of the port was dying down, breathing in the last warm smell of the day and taking a sip of swallow Marden made his way to the room upstairs.

Setting another fire in the bedchamber Marden stared out the window at the setting sun, forgetting how much he missed the water and for the first time in a long time seeing the sun.

The dying light of the sun shimmered and bounced on the water front, the busy docked workers worked their ways to the seafront bars a reward for a day well worked, a sharp wind blew through the bedchamber kicking up the flames in its wake.

Inspecting his wound and taking another sip of swallow Marden readied himself a bath.


End file.
